MOVIES SHOW GHASTLINESS OF . CALUMETS
RECENT FIRE CATASTROPHE
There were two exhibitions of the
moving pictures of the funeral of the
victims of the Christmas eve disaster
in Calumet yesterday.
In the little hall up three flights of
stairs on North Clark street the pic
ture received its baptism.
Its sponsors were two members of
the Western Federation of Miners,
three motion picture operators one
of whom had taken the picture a
picture producer, two newspaper
men and an express wagon driver
who had wandered into the darkened,
bare hall, and stayed to watch the
film unreeled, held by the power of
the spectacle presented.
In the comments of the spectators
was rvealed the appeal of the picture.
Scenes of dasister, of misery and
suffering were no strangers to those
present. But the pathos of the pic
ture pierced the veneer of cynicism
and struck home. '
With a flare and sputter the pic
ture flashed on the little screen, re
vealing the church at which the serv
ice for the 57 victims buried was held.
Hundreds milled around the doors
struggling to gain an entrance. Chil
dren predominated in the crowd,
seeking to pay a final tribute to their
playmates, whose lives had been so
needlessly crushed out because
someone had made a fatal blunder
A fine snow was falling, and the
streets were covered with white. But
the picture was wonderfully clear.
"Good stuff," commented one of
the picture men. "Notice how those
buildings in the background stand
An interurban car wormed, its way
through the crowd which choked the
"H 1! Don't them street car -people
there care nothing for a funeral,"
came from the expressman, not con
scious that he was speaking aloud.
A quick change in the picture, and
the first coffin was brought from the
church door. It was white and
small. Nearly all of the coffins were
white and small.
On the shoulders of four men the
little box was borne down the steps
of the church and placed in a wait
ing hearse. Another followed. And
then another. They came in such
quick succession that thev could not
I be counted.
The supply of hearses ran out.
And then came the most moving part
of the picture. Two squads of four
men each were assigned to a coffin
and the coffin was carried aloft on
their shoulders. When one squad
tired another leaped to take its place.
A second street car sundered the
head of the cortege as it started on
its long march to the burying ground.
A quick transformation, and the
scene changed to the funeral proces
sion nearing the cemetery. Down
the narrow ribbon of road it came,
across the plain fro mCalumet. The
road was a mass of black against the
snowy wastes of the surrounding
Hearse after hearse passed. Some
of the bodies were conveyed in
sleighs. And then came the men
marching with the coffins on their
shoulders. They were cssried twb'
Across the sky line was a smudg
of smoke from one of the Calumet &
Hecla mines. While the strikers were
burying their dead the work of the"
mines went on. In the foreground
loomed the shaft of the Red Jacket
mine, where, many of the men had
toiled before they went on strike.
"That sky line stuff is great," com4
mented one of the picture, operators.1
"You can see people clear back to the'
town, and it must be a couple of miles'
"Yet they say there are only 3,00ft
of us on strike," muttered Yanco Ter
xml | txt