Firefighters Battle Freezing Hose at 1893 Blaze
When an arctic blast hit Seattle, firemen responding to a blaze returned to their stations as living statues of ice.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Chief A. B. Hunt, of the fire department, has made additional preparations in case of fire, and is now prepared to put on enough additional horses to drag the heavy apparatus through the snow. The firemen were discussing the fire on Lake Street and Squire Avenue yesterday. When the men got water on the buildings, everything went all right until the bell was rung for 'fire out'; then the trouble began. It was so cold that the water froze at the drop of the hat just where it struck. The pipemen found this was the case when they tried to wind up the hose. Every yard was frozen stiff, and when they finally got it piled up on the wagon, a stranger would have thought it was a load of hay. To add to the trouble, the supply wagon horses got frightened and made a break for liberty. The snow was so deep that they could not run far. The men were nearly frozen and were covered from head to foot with ice. Their hands were numb, and to use them was almost an impossibility. The great time came, however, when the men reached the houses. Not a one could take off his clothes, and if they had been put in a line would have looked like animated icicles. Ice had formed over each button, and the men found their fingers could not break it. To solve this problem the boiler in the telephone room was called into play, and one by one the men stood up to the hot surface and let the ice melt away.
“Not a one could take off his clothes, and if they had been put in a line would have looked like animated icicles.”
This accounts for the brutal reality of 19th-century firefighting in a pre-central-heating era. Today, Seattle’s fire department uses climate-controlled gear and massive internal support, but the memory of the city's 'Great Snow' winters remains a piece of local lore.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.