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Our Lady of the Angels (OLA) School Fire, December 1, 1958
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Personal Experiences with Our Lady of the Angels School Fire

If you have a personal experience, recollection or opinion about the December 1, 1958 Our Lady of the Angels school fire, whether you were present at the fire or not, you can relate it here. Any story or information is welcome as long as it relates to Our Lady of the Angels school fire.
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Posted by: Shane Flynn On: 1/25/2006 ID: 251
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No After n/a
I am doing a History Fair project on the Our Lady of The Angels School Fire. I would love to hear from some of the students who were lucky enough to survive that day. Any remembrances, feelings, etc... that you would care to share would be greatly appreciated! I need information/feedback by 1/29/06. Thank You!

Shane Flynn
Chicago, IL


Posted by: BarbaraElizabeth On: 1/16/2006 ID: 250
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Park Ridge, Illinois

I was a third-grader at Mary, Seat of Wisdom in Park Ridge. In those days -- at least for an 8-year-old -- it felt like the Catholic church was a huge, strict, enfolding home, a place where life was structured, clear and very safe. I could picture my future: from Mary, Seat of Wisdom, on to Marywood high school, to Loyola or some other Catholic college and so to Catholic marriage and the raising of my own Catholic family: secure, decent, surrounded by the church hierarchy.
But the fire at Our Lady of Angels was one of the first events to shake my tidy view of the good Catholic life. My teacher, her voice raised, told us story after story from the fire. The children who tumbled, flaming, to the ground. The ones suffocated at their desks. The nuns who futilely tried to shield them and who perished with their charges. I can still see, in my mind's eye, the pictures I formed: of burnt children my age, of children falling, hair on fire.
We prayed for weeks, into spring, and heard stories and stories.
It's so typical of the times, of the 50's and early 60's, that the bereaved families didn't sue, didn't organize to pressure the city to uncover the cause or arrest the arsonist. Instead, they fell apart, for a time or for the rest of their lives, perhaps after being told by priestly counselors to accept God's will.
I'm glad that, after all these decades, there is a book and a documentary and this website. That fire and the subsequent shushing up have left many of us, even far on the periphery, haunted.


Posted by: Theresa Page On: 1/11/2006 ID: 249
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 12 7 202 don't remember
I was in 7th grade when the fire occured. My classroom was on the
second floor near the stairway. The room was beginning to fill with
smoke heavily and also in the hallway.
The smoke was so heavy you could not see ahead of yourself, I reached
for someone to walk with and felt another hand of someone that I was
able to grab onto and make our way out to the hallway and down the
staircase. I was able to make it outside of the school, thankfully.
I started to walk home to Hamlin Ave where I lived. My mother was home at the time.
I had two other cousins that attented the school, and also survived.
I am very thankful to have made it out of this tragedy alive, as you never forget this.


Posted by: rgilbert On: 1/10/2006 ID: 248
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 927 N. Central Park, Chicago, IL
I was 12 years old and a student at Ryerson School. I attended OlA on Wednesdays for CCD. Public School students would leave school early and walk to OLA for classes. I believe the OLA students would leave early on Wednesday. Mary Ellen Moretti was a classmate that I befriended that sat next to me. She was awaiting to be transferred to OLA when they had room for her. One day upon leaving school she asked me to show her the way home as she was new to the school and neighborhood. I will never forget her. One day arriving at school Mary Ellen was not there and I asked the teacher about where she was and was told that she transferred to OLA as they had room for her. It was a matter of days later (or may have been weeks, I don't remember exactly)that I was leaving Ryerson school approx 3 p.m at the end of the day and as we students walked down the stairs and out the building of the school the word was reaching us by mouth that OLA was on fire and the news carried on up the stairway in disbelief. I remember to this day seeing Mary Ellen picture in the newspaper as one of the victims. I believe this was my first introduction to death and I have never forgotten it. My life was in turmoil at the time and I believe the sadness and that I felt from Mary Ellen drew us together at that time in our lives. OLA is where I had made my first communion and confirmation. I left Chicago in Spring of 1959 for the suburbs but I will never forget the 4 years spent in Chicago and attending OLA for CCD.


Posted by: Cindi K On: 1/7/2006 ID: 247
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No After n/a
For years as a youth growing up in Elgin, IL; I had heard stories about this fire but didn't really know a lot about it until the day of December 1, 1998 when I had had a really bad day at work and I was feeling sorry for myself because I had taken this new job and was feeling a lot of pressure and feeling very sorry for myself. I was driving on my lunch break looking for somewhere to go when I heard that it was the 40 year anniversary of the OLA fire. When they mentioned on the news blip how many people were killed and the details of the fire, I pulled over and I realized that my problems were inconsequential and that I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. That night after work, I picked up my daughter and we tried to make it to OLA for the remembrance service that they had but we got lost and found it after the mass had ended. Outside the church and school, we looked around and had a thoughtful moment about the victims. Since then, I have read much about the fire and I always remember the victims and their families in my prayers. And even though I didn't know anyone who died in the fire, the memory of it served to bring me back to life and show me what is most important. God Bless the victims, family, friends and anyone who was part of assisting the victims and the children. God Bless all of you...always.


Posted by: Lucy Matkey Darling On: 1/6/2006 ID: 246
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Milwaukee, Wisc
Sister Helaine who I understand was in the awful fire was my 7th & 8th grade teacher in 1960 & 1961 at Gesu School in Milwaukee, WI. I was talking to my granddaughter the other nite and somehow the subject came up. I still remember hearing about the fire in 1958. We were astounded as children to have our teacher be one of the people who had been in the fire. In the process of trying to find out more about that time I came across your site. I went through every letter to see if there was any mention of Sister Helaine but found none. She was a hard task master but we learned so much from her. From what I have heard Sister Helaine has passed away. My prayers are with all who survived and their familes.


Posted by: Bob Kressin On: 1/2/2006 ID: 245
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Watertown, WI
Approximately two years ago I saw the WTTW documentary "To Sleep With The Angels." While knowing little about this event, I was stunned by what I saw and learned.I had heard about the fire several years ago, when I attended a Catholic elementary school in Watertown, WI in the early to mid 1960's. The nuns at my school, Sisters of St. Agnes, spoke about the fire in Chicago that took the lives of so many children and nuns. My school consisted of "the old school", a building of similar construction to OLA, brick exterior and wood interior, and a "new school" built next to it after 1960, all of cinder block and no wood whatsoever. I recall fire drills several times a year.When I saw the documentary I was gripped by the story and agrieved by the loss of life. Recently, I was at a bookstore where I was looking in the "Chicago" section and the book "To Sleep With the Angels" stared me in the face from the bookshelf. I did not hesitate and bought it. I finished it today. A number of times I had to put the book down, as tears came to my eyes. In fact, as I live only a mile away, I recently visited Queen of Heaven to see the memorial and spent time silently reading the names of those who lost their lives. In addition, I went to the neighborhood of Our Lady of the Angels. Finally, I have discovered that one of the survivors of the north wing 2nd floor classrooms is a fellow employee. These experiences have brought home with stunning and shocking clarity this tragic event. No longer is it people "out there" but "real" people whose lives are affected . . . now.This note, in an extremely small way, is my way of paying respect to the people impacted by this tragedy and to say that I am with you. Pax.


Posted by: Dan Lupo On: 12/1/2005 ID: 244
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No

Today is Dec. 1, 2005.

Forty-seven years ago, I was born within hours of Aunt Joanie's death. While my mom, Aunt Joanie's big sister Margaret, was in St. Elizabeth's Hospital giving birth to me, my dad heard the news on the radio in the waiting room.

My dad asked the doctor if he thought it would be ok to tell my mom of the tragic news of the fire (he still didn't know whether my aunt and two uncles were ok). The doctor told him not to tell my mom, who was weak and had lost a lot of blood delivering me.

My dad asked my mom's hospital room-mate, who had received a new radio for her room, if she could please not play the radio for a while, so that my mom would not learn of fire.

Then my dad and my uncle Ernie went to the school to look for the kids. They couldn't even get close to the scene, but were told to go to Cook County Morgue. They went but could not identify any kids. They went to St. Anne's; same outcome. They went back home and decided to try again later.

This time, my Aunt Rosemary, my favorite aunt, went with them and did ID Aunt Joanie at Cook County by a locket my mom and dad had given her.

Growing up, I was never aware of the bittersweet nature of my birthday. As far as I knew, my birthday was my birthday, and that was that. All the grief of that day never clouded my birthday celebrations. It was only until I was older that I learned about Dec. 1st being not only my birthday, but also the day my aunt perished.

I am amazed, and grateful, that my mom and dad, and extended family could hide so well their pain and sadness from me all those years.

In our house as I gew up there was a picture of Aunt Joanie and her siblings -- a painting. In that picture, Aunt Joanie had brown hair, and big brown almost sad eyes; and her smile was weak, forced, almost as if she were unaccustomed to smiling.

- - - - - - -

In late fall of 2001, I had reached a deep low in my life: things were not going well, and most of the mess was of my making. Like the twin towers in NYC, my life had come crumbling down around me.

My wife suggested we attend a reconciliation service in St. Thomas More church in Austin, TX. When the priest asked us to kneel to review our conscience before confessing our sins, I looked inside myself and saw nothing. Only blackness. Utter emptiness. Alone, afraid, helpless, despairing, I did the only thing I could do: I prayed.

And I prayed naked before God, utterly without pretense, and asked His help in turning my life around, to use my talents to bring good to the world. I told God I was tired of trying to fix things: I had tried and had screwed things up, and I pleaded with him to take over my life and transform it. I surrendered to His will.

When I opened my eyes and stood up, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I looked and a little girl sat sideways, looking directly at me. The girl looked exactly like Aunt Joanie, from the portrait I remembered hanging in our house as I was growing up.

Her likeness was so amazingly similar that I was moved to tell my wife; I whispered, "Look at that little girl; she looks exactly like my Aunt who died the day I was born."

As I heard myself say these words, a thought came to me: "Maybe this _IS_ my aunt. Maybe she is my guardian angel. Maybe God is responding to my prayers by revealing His presence in my life through my guardian angel. He is trying to tell me that, yes, indeed He will help me. That He's been helping me all along via my guardian angel, my Aunt Joanie."

Although I was amazed at this revelation, I was not fearful or upset or disbelieving. On the contrary, it felt real, true. I knew to the core of my being that this experience was of God.

On the drive home, I struggle to articulate to my wife what I was feeling. The next day, when I shared my experience with my parents on the phone, they both mused, "sure, we always thought that Joanie was your guardian angel."

Over the next 4 years, my life has been turned completely around. I have been led on a journey of discovering the truth of God's mercy and love. Situations have arisen, people have come into my life, opportunities have opened up . . . and I have been swept up into the flow of love that courses through life.

The eyes of my heart have been opened to allow me to see that love is everywhere, and most especially in relationships; and love is as easily accessible as a kind word or gesture to another human being. We all possess it, we all have access to it, and we all are called to give it away because there is a limitless reservoir from which it comes.

Pray. Love. Serve. Repeat.

This is the motto by which I now live my life. Pray to establish and deepen your relationship with God. In that deepened relationship, God fills our hearts with His love. His love overflows, and we are called to give it away in service, doing for others as we would have others do for us. In service, we are given the grace to spread his love. In gratitude for this grace, we return to praise God in prayer . . . and the cycle starts over again.

In January 2006, I will be starting the Deacon Formation Program in the Diocese of Austin. I have been and will continue to touch many lives, and Aunt Joanne will continue to guide me.

Although she may have died in the OLA fire, Aunt Joanie was transformed and became my guardian angel; and her blessed innocense lives on, in my life, and touches all who I encounter.

Thank you, Aunt Joanie, for surrendering your life, so that mine might be used to do good, to spread love, to do God's will. Amen.


Posted by: Bob Stapleton On: 12/1/2005 ID: 243
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Westchester, Il
My name is Bob Stapleton I live in Joliet,Il. I was 6 years old at the time of the fire. This is for my dad. His name Edmund Stapleton. My dad operated a funeral livery business(suppying the veheicles and drivers to funeral homes in the Chicago area). The name of his business was Chateau Livery located at 600 N. Parkside St.My dad passed away this pass Feb. 20 athe the age of 78.My father never forgot that day and neither will I.From what I learned from him over the years and it took along time for him to tell what he did that day and the next several days.At his memorial mass I reflected about my fathers love and how that day effected him for the rest of his life.It was a very typical day in the life of the business that his brother and he operated on the westside of Chicago. That summer before on the July 4th weekend they had purchased and accepted the largest single delivery of professional vehicles in the history of the country. Pictures appeared in papers all over the country about the delivery and the National Safety Council used it as a devise to promote safe driving over the holiday weekend. Mayor Daley allowed the delivery to take place at Lake Shore Dr. and Balboa so pictures could be taken of the entire fleet.My father said they first heard about the fire from one of his drivers returning to the garage. Sometime after 3PM a police officer came in asking for stretchers and cots. About the sametime a call came in from the fire department asking for vehicles to report to the fire scene. Having most of the drivers in he was able to send 12 to 15 of the hearses to the fire along with their 2 service wagons. The police provided an escort and as he said he was concerned about people seeing the vehicles and the possible impact it could have on the people at the fire scene.They assisted the fire department and police and dealing with injured and doing whatever they were asked.As the fire was struck his and his drivers tasks grew more difficult.My fathers dear friend Monsingor Gorman(chaplin of the Fire Depatment)came to him and asked that he assist with the task of helping him deal the families of the many victims of the fire. My father shouldered that task and he served his church,his friend and the families that day and the days to come and he carried those days for the rest of his life.When my dad came home that first night my mom must of known some of the events of the day already from him. I was watching TV at the time in their bedroom because it was late but my mom said I could stay to see my dad. I was sitting on the floor in front of my dad's dresser, my dad entered the room and he had not taking his overcoat or his shoes of yet and my mom normal hung his coat up in the front closet when he came home. MY dad picked me up, I could smell smoke, I then noticed his face, it was dark and he had soot and ashes in his hair. He had his good navy blue wool overcoat on he usally wore that when he was directing a funeral for one of his customers. It smelled of fire, he had a white shirt on and a red tie and the bottom of his pants were dirty and wet and muddy. My dad was crying as he held me. He held me tighter then I could ever remember. I had never see my dad cry before. It scared me. I didn't know what was wrong. My dad told me about the fire and I would need to say extra prayers that night for some children that died and were hurt in the fire.We all said prayers together that night and for nights to come. My dad took me to the armory and we prayer there too. I had never seen a white casket before and now there were several. Father Gorman was there too. I knew because he always gave me a ride in his Fire Department car and he would put the lights on and sometimes turned the siren on.We said prayers with him too.Months later my dad would start experiencing it all over again in his sleep.As time grew the less it would occur. But as the anniversary would would come and stories would appear it would be a reminder to him. On this day I would make sure I gave my dad an extra hung and if I didn't see him that day I would call and tell him that I loved him. Today I will look at his picture and tell him that I love him and I will say a prayer of all those who were touched by that fire.
God Bless.. I love you dad.


Posted by: Tom Margherone On: 11/30/2005 ID: 242
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 5 k Mary Hall don't remember
It's after 3AM here in Phoenix and I am wide awake thinking about the horrific fire, the 47th annniversary of which will be tomorrow.

I was just a kid in kindergarten at the time and I went to school in the AM at OLA. Our class was housed half a block from the school in a three flat called Mary Hall. On Monday December 1, 1958 the day started as did all of the others since the previous September. I loved going to school and that day was no different than any other morning.

My aunt came to pick me up when class ended to take me back to her house. My mother was in a TB sanitarium at the time and had been there for almost two years. She was also away in the sanitarium for the first year of my birth. When my aunt arrived to pick me up she announced that we were going out to lunch at Woolworth's. I thought that was way too cool at the time but while we were eating she announced that my mother would finally be coming home later in the week. I barely remembered my mom at the time and also barely remembered the house we owned and lived in two years prior. My baby brother was born in January 1958 and he would finally be coming home from the foster family as well. We would finally, after so very long, be a complete family again.

Lunch was wonderful and then we wandered over to the toy section of the store so I could make all of my Christmas wishes to Santa. My aunt wrote down everything that I wanted and it was looking to be a great holiday for me. She assured me that she would mail my list directly to Santa and things were really going great. We spent a pretty fair amount of the early afternoon viewing toys and then a bit of Chicago Ave. shopping before heading home.

When we ready to head home I remembered that I forgot a bag at school. The teacher gave each student a bag filled with tape and construction paper to make ornaments for our Christmas trees at home. I pleaded to go back to the school to pick up the bag and my aunt agreed to do so.

We walked up Hamlin Ave to Mary Hall and I ran inisde to collect my bag of goodies. I was very anxious to start making decorations for the holidays. Since we were so close, I thought that perhaps I could con my aunt into some change for the candy store, which was only a block or so away. She handed me a quarter, on the condition that the candy I purchase last at least a couple of days and off we went to Barbara's store. I felt like I won the lotto and was very eager to get to the store. But when we turned the corner from Hamlin to Iowa little did I know that my world would be changed forever.

We could see the smoke and numerous fire trucks began arriving. We made our way to Avers Ave. near the candy store, and the crowd of people grew rapidly. I could see very little from my position so I decided to move in a bit closer. I eventually made my way pretty close to be able to see what was happening and the absolute horror of what was occruuing will be with me for a lifetime. I was standing next to an older Italian lady with a floor length heavy brown winter coat. In an instant she pulled me under the coat to try to block my view of what was happening. She was shouting at me to find my mother and I didn't know enough Italian at the time to explain anything to her. She pulled her rosary beads under her coat and together the two of us prayed. Little did she know but with me inside her coat there became a large gap for me to see exactly what was happening at the school.

I still cannot speak the exact details of what I saw that afternoon. Suffice it to say that no five year old should ever have to see the things I witnessed on that cold but sunny afternoon. Most of what was covered in the books on the fire bear witness to the things I also saw. In spite of how well everything was handled by the teachers and fire department, it seemed like complete and total chaos to me. People were running and screaming everywhere and injured kids were walking around as well.

I think my aunt went into a total state of shock, as did most of the folks at the fire that afternoon. It took her some time to finally realize that I was there too and she began a frantic search for me. My uncle and my father both left work upon hearing of the fire and thankfully my dad had the sense to call the sanitarium and ask one of the nurses to let my mother know that I was OK and already out of school for the day.

In spite of the crowd, my aunt, uncle and father connected and all began searching for me. Little did I realize at the time but I was impossible to locate under this lady's coat, completely hidden from view. And I also recall it being very loud with folks screaming and crying - I probably wouldn't have heard them even if they were close to me. I pulled myself out of the lady's coat to become sick and remained outside her coat where I was finally found just as darkness was setting. My father was quite upset with my aunt for allowing me to be at the school during the fire but he eventually calmed down when he realized what she had witnessed as well. He also picked me up and hugged me so hard I thought he was going to injure me.

I did not attend school the rest of the week. I don't know if classes were held for the Mary and Joseph Hall kids but I did not go to school. My mother arrived home on Thursday December 4th and it was a very welcome family reunion. It was great to be in my own house and with my mother and year old brother but the horror of the fire would not let go of me. I had great difficulty sleeping and could not get the horrible images out of my mind.

All of the neighbors and relatives had, for weeks, been planning a big welcome home and baby shower for my mother. Since she was in the sanitarium long befoer my brother was born they felt the shower was long over due. It was planned to be an Italian feast. The party never happened. A few folks came over with a gift or two and a plate of food but there was no way that any kind of party could be held in the immediate aftermath of the fire.

The following Monday I started school at Alfred Nobel - which was only a half a block from my house. I have no idea why I left OLA and regret not asking one of my folks for the reason before they passed away.
On my first day of class at Nobel I vividly recall the teacher asking me to speak very loudly and tell everyone my name. Then she asked me to tell everyone what school I came from. When I shouted Our lady of the Angels every student and even the teacher gasped in shock. I ran home - deciding right then and there that I would never return to school. That afternoon the teacher called my mother to apologise and to assure her that she had a long talk with my classmates and they all promised not to talk to me about the fire or do anything that would upset me.

The following day wasn't much better for me. At mid morning we had our milk and cookies and then a 20 minute nap before continuing class. I did fall sound asleep but was awakened by what would be the first of many nightmares about the fire. I woke up screaming and once again ran home where things felt safe and secure. After a couple more of these occurrances I decided to quit school and hide out in our basement while I should have been in class. After a few more parent teacher conferences and a couple of teacher conferences with me, I decided to try school again. We came to an agreement that I would never nap and would help the teacher clean the class while the others napped.

I really felt like I was being treated like an outsider by the entire class. No one ever talked to me and as I look back on things I think that's exactly the way i wanted things to be. It seemed to me that my real friends were back at OLA and I really did not want anyhthing to do with this new school or the kids in it. I hated everything about school all of a sudden and often times even saw Nobel school on fire as I was walking toward it for class.

Things seemed to get easier for me at school with the passing of time. The nightmares finally stopped and I did get all the way through graduate school without much more cutting of classes. Fire drills at school absolutely terrified me and knowing that so many safeguards were in place gave me little in the way of relief.

That seemed to solve the school problem but bed time was a very difficult time in our household. I hated going to bed and quiet often woke up screaming and soaked to the bone. Our family doctor recommended some sleep aids and a psychiatrist - both of which really eased the nightmare occurrances. We also did a lot of talking about the fire. I hear over and over that the fire was not spoken of in households but ours was quite different. I had no idea what death meant and could not understand how something so horriblwe could happen. Mt folks really tried their very best to help me to understand things, but to this day I think it is all way beyond the comprehension of a five year old.

As I grew up, fire drills were a constant in our household. My brother and I would be awakened and put through a drill of what we would do under various circumstances. We also had a rope made fire ladder in our
bedroom and my dad even went as far as to purchase one for the tenants in our two flat.

When my father passed away in 1994 my brother and I had the duty of emptying the house for evenutal sale. Far in the back of a closet I found a box containing every card I ever sent to my mother for every conceivable holiday. I also discovered that bag of stuff given to the kindergarten class just hours before the fire. It remains stapled closed to this day. I also discovered a letter written to Santa. It was written by an older neighbor girl on my behalf. I have saved it and it reads:

Dear Santa,
I know you got my letter of Christmas stuff I need already but please throw it in the garbage.
I do not want any of the toys on the list.
I have a few wishes for you
Please don't ever let another kid die in a fire.
Please let all the burned kids come home before Christmas.
Please don't ever make my mother go away to that place again.
And could you not throw away the toys you got for me and give them to the burned kids in the hospital
Love tomnmy

I did indeed get everying on my original Christmas wish list. I assumed that Santa never got my second letter or maybe he got it mixed up wuith someone else. I opened each gift very caerfully, knowing that I would have to rewrap the gifts for the kids still in the hospital. Once my father explained to me that the kids in the hospital were all too old to want to play with my toys, I accepted them.

My time at Nobel passed, with each day a little bit easier than the last. While I was housed on the second floor of the school, by luck of the draw, my classes were the ones with the new fire escapes. My three years housed on the third floor were also spent in classes with fire escapes - years later I discovered that it was not the luck of the draw - but a very insistant mother wanting to insure the safety of her son.

Part of my time in high school was especially trying for me. I went to Lane Tech and at the time I was in school there were constant bomb threats to the school and false alarm fire drills. I did my best to maintain myself and follow the rules, hoping for the best.

As the years have passed, many of the images and memories have faded, yet others reamin so distinct and vivid - like it was only yestrday.

And to finish - something very unusual was discovered about a year or so after the fire. On December 1, 1957, a year to the day before the fire my mother had lung surger in the TB sanitorium. My mother reveived 92 consecutive stitches during the surgery, followed by a inch or so break and then an additional three stitches where a tube was inserted.
It simply chilled us all to the bone that the stitch numbers were matched a year later with fatalities at the fire - 92 children and three nuns.

My sincere and heartfelt wishes for a wonderful holiday season to all.

tom margherone
tmtommytom@aol.com