Thursday, March 03, 2011

Democrat and Chronicle, February 27, 2011, Sunday

Democrat and Chronicle

February 27, 2011, Sunday

Democrat and Chronicle

Voices from the ashes
Story of one of the deadliest factory fires told in JCC play

On March 25, 1911, a smoldering scrap heap in a Manhattan sweatshop flared into the deadliest workplace fires in American history.

No one knows what caused the blaze at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory. It could have been a cigarette butt or an overheated sewing machine motor.

But in 35 minutes, 146 garment workers were fatally burned or jumped to their death from ninth-story windows. Public outrage soon toughened industrial safety laws and rallied support for the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union.

A century later, a play at the Jewish Community Center revisits the tragedy and its powerful aftermath. Christopher Piehler's The Triangle Factory Fire Project uses eyewitness testimony from workers, police and firemen to explore a tragedy that defies the imagination.

"The play interweaves characters' accounts of where they were during the fire and how they responded," says director Brian Coughlin, a Rochester resident. "We hope it creates a greater awareness of this event. A lot of people still don't know how important it was in the history of labor relations."

Nine actors play 50 roles, shifting their identities by split-second changes in their accents and body language. Their stories re-create the blaze in the viewer's imagination without any need for special effects. The play uses no smoke machines, collapsing fire escapes or actors leaping onto hidden mattresses.

Instead, the stage is divided into sections representing the three floors that the fire consumed. As it spreads, the stage area shrinks and panic races out of control.
"A crescendo of emotion occurs that I find very powerful," says Pittsford actor Steve Marsocci.

He plays (among other roles) a prosecutor and a professor whose students helped workers escape across the roof.

"There were plenty of witnesses that Saturday afternoon," he says. "The sidewalks were just loaded with people enjoying the day."

Hamlin actress Meghan Rose Tonery portrays both a victim of the fire and a survivor who denounced the factory's owners.

"Yetta was a machine operator who jumped to her death from the ninth floor," says Tonery. "Her experience, of course, had to be put together from other people's accounts. But Ethel was a 16-year-old floor worker who survived and testified at the trial."

From time to time, the cast also reads "headlines" that sum up the sociopolitical backdrop to the fire.

In 1911, thousands of Italian, Russian and Eastern European Jewish immigrants vied for scarce jobs in New York City. Work weeks of 52 hours were common. Tuberculosis outbreaks were just one of the health hazards encountered in the overcrowded sweatshops.
"These immigrants were pretty much disposable," says Coughlin. "The factory owners had them right where they wanted them."

But even in this snake pit, the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory and its owners enjoyed a special reputation.

About 500 workers shared the cramped eighth, ninth and 10th floors of a blouse company that had eight previous fires from 1902 to 1910.

The Russian-born owners, Max Blanck and Isaac Harris, were among the most successful and ruthless employers in the garment industry. Workers were locked in during lengthy shifts. Talking was forbidden, and employees were required to buy their own needles and thread.
On March 25, 1911, an alert worker reported a spark in an eighth-floor scrap bin. The fire spread with terrifying speed, but most of the floor's workers managed to flee.

A bookkeeper alerted the 10th floor by phone. But by the time an alarm reached the 260 employees on the ninth floor, it was too late. Flames engulfed the greasy floor and a barrel of machine oil exploded.

Many fleeing workers were blocked by a sealed stairway door. Some plunged to the sidewalk when a rickety fire escape collapsed; others hurtled with blazing hair and clothes from the windows. One young couple was seen kissing before their fatal leap.

Six workers were so badly mangled that no one could recognize them. But amateur genealogist Michael Hirsch recently established their identities through period newspapers and documents, according to a recent New York Times article. The five women and one man were young immigrants, like most of their co-workers.

Public anger over the fire turned to incredulity when a jury acquitted Blanck and Harris of manslaughter charges. Defense lawyer Max Steuer argued that no one had proved that the owners knew the exit doors were locked at the time of the fire.

Shockwaves from the disaster didn't take long to reach Rochester.

"The fire definitely bought about lasting changes," says Linda H. Donahue, senior extension associate with Cornell University School of Industrial and Labor Relations. "Suddenly, the New York state Department of Labor and legislators paid a lot more attention to workplace conditions."

Among them was Sen. Robert Wagner, who launched garment factory inspections across New York state and found violations in 31 of 33 Rochester plants visited.

The city was home to major companies such as the Hickey-Freeman Co. and Michaels-Stern & Co. More than 100 small clothing manufacturers operated on St. Paul Street, North Clinton Avenue and nearby areas.

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire and the state inspection had a galvanizing effect. On Jan. 23, 1913, 10,000 local garment workers went on strike for better working conditions, higher pay and union representation. Six people were wounded and Ida Breiman — the 18-year-old daughter of a striking tailor — was shot to death by a sweatshop manager.

"The strikers were unsuccessful in winning improvements and went back to work," says Donahue.

It took another strike in 1918 and long labor negotiations for local garment factory owners to agree to recognize the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America. That history will be the topic of a discussion after the JCC's March 6 show, conducted by the cast, Donahue and Workers United political director Gary Bonadonna.

The JCC production has become more timely than expected, after the recent spectacle of Wisconsin public employees battling for their pay, benefits and collective bargaining rights.
Even the deplorable sweatshop conditions described in the play haven't entirely disappeared. They have merely been outsourced to Third World countries.

"In places like Bangladesh, people's lives are cheaper," Donahue says. "We're kidding ourselves if we think it all ended after the Triangle fire."

SLOW@DemocratandChronicle.com