Some say they saw the flickering of a small flame on the side wall of the tent just above the men’s bathroom. At first no one moved; surely the circus staff had it under control. But by the time circus workers reached the fire, their meager buckets of water had little effect. As the crowd watched, the flame grew, spidering up the tent wall. Then someone yelled, “Fire!” and the panic began. A frightened crowd of 6,000 spectators began jostling down the rickety bleachers and across the grandstand toward the exits. The mob shoved aside folding chairs and anything else in the way. People tripped and fell. Some women and children were plucked up off the ground by kind, strong hands. Others were trampled under the rush of frantic feet. A crush of bodies pushed toward the main entrance on the west end of the tent. The northeast and northwest exits were blocked by tall steel chutes where snarling panthers still prowled inside.
Meanwhile, the blaze spread across the ceiling of the massive big top, fueled by the mixture of wax and gasoline that was used to waterproof the tent. Pieces of flaming canvas floated to the ground and black smoke billowed, making it difficult to breathe. As the fire grew, the tent became an oven. Parents desperately struggled to hold on to their small children as everyone was swept along in the swarm of people rushing toward the exits.
The tent burned to the ground in fewer than 10 minutes, and 167 people died. It was one of the worst tragedies the country had ever seen. From the ashes, questions arose: How did the fire start? Was it an accident? Could a madman have set it on purpose? Who cared for the people who survived? Who were the victims? How did investigators identify them from their charred remains?
The mysteries surrounding the Hartford circus fire are still being explored today, more than 70 years after the disaster occurred. Professionals and amateurs alike have examined the evidence and argued their theories. Now it’s your turn.