The Floor Gives Way: Panic and Death at Seattle’s Morris Opera House
A grand opening night turns into a nightmare when the second-story floor of the newly converted theater collapses into the stables below, killing several and injuring dozens in one of the city's earliest major disasters.
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.
The second story of the Pacific Stables, kept by J. W. Wilson, on Second Street between K and L streets, which was formerly occupied by a gymnasium by the Amity Club, has recently been changed into a theater capable of seating 1,000 people, including the gallery with a capacity for 250, and 25 private boxes with room for 150 more. The place was named after the proprietor, Morris Opera House.
It was thrown open to the public this evening, with a variety troupe just from the East; among them being the Peek Family of Swiss Bell-ringers, Miss Lulu Wilson, serio-comic singer; Miss Emma Dunham, dancer; Misses Beatrice and Ellen Devaux, John Foster, negro comedian, and a number of others. The house was densely crowded this evening, on the occasion of the opening performances.
The hall is about 40 by 50 feet in size. At about 8:15 o’clock, while the performance was progressing, a sudden sinking of the floor was noticed, accompanied by a cracking of beams, and the dress circle was precipitated into the stable. The rear part of the floor was held up by the stalls underneath, and those in that part of the house were thrown forwards towards the stage. The lights were extinguished by the concussion, and the mass of struggling humanity was left in the darkness.
The scene was a fearful one, and the cries and shrieks of the panic-stricken were heart-breaking. The alarm of fire was rung at all the engine-houses in the city, and news of the accident spread like wildfire. Fully five thousand people were on the spot in less than ten minutes, and people rushing wildly from every direction. The fire department and police at once took charge of the ruins and exerted themselves to rescue the maimed and assist the uninjured in escaping from the wreck.
Besides those killed it is known that some 80 or 90 were more or less injured. The following is a list of killed and wounded, so far as can be ascertained at present:
Killed: S. F. Perry, janitor court house; Frank Myers, compositor Record Union office; W. J. Foster, compositor Record Union office, carried out badly injured, dying in an hour; an unknown Spaniard fatally injured; an unknown man lying dead at Wilson’s stable; Michael Tierny.
Injured: Henry Laca, badly bruised; Ezra Wilson, fatally injured; Valentine, a W. U. T. Co. employe, hurt; a boy named White, slightly hurt; Arthur Wilson, son of J. W. Wilson, badly hurt; Mrs. Wilson, actress, seriously bruised; Eddie Peake, bruised; Smith, leader of the orchestra, wounded; Oscar Gilman, badly hurt; S. J. Joseph, slightly hurt; Gibson, wounded; Ed. Harber, compositor Record Union, badly hurt; Fred Smith, leg broken; Freddie Gibson, paper carrier, seriously hurt; Frank Chapman, badly hurt; W. H. Cooke, slightly hurt; Dr. H. H. Briggs, eye hurt; A. Lovett, seriously hurt; S. W. Freeman, hurt about the head; Scotty Burns, hurt about the head; Thomas Cox, bruised; S. W. Harris, bruised about the back and shoulders; George Carpenter, leg and arm broken; George Grimshaw, badly injured; George Riley, badly hurt in the leg; A. H. Jackson, hurt about the hips and legs; J. Green, seriously hurt; C. N. Blanchard, badly hurt; C. D. Humphrey, internally injured; C. Barnes, cut in the head; G. Frey, arm broken; Willie Myers and Geo. Myers, badly bruised; D. W. Cage, shoulder blade broken; August Bangson, slightly hurt about the head; Frank Wilder, slightly hurt about the head.
This 1876 disaster highlights the precarious nature of early Seattle construction, where rapid expansion often outpaced engineering safety standards. The collapse of a floor into stables below serves as a grim reminder of the risks taken in building a city on unstable ground, echoing modern concerns about infrastructure integrity and building codes in rapidly growing urban centers.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.