THE PLAMONDON FAMILY The similarities between the Eastland Disaster and the Iroquois Theatre Fire are astonishing. The majority of each catastrophe's victims were women and children, killed within minutes and by those trying to escape their with their own lives. After the Iroquois Fire, a new hospital was dedicated to serve downtown... the Iroquois Memorial Hospital. Numerous survivors of the Eastland Disaster were admitted there for treatment. The Plamondon family was one pursued by fate. Charlotte E. Plamondon (who later married A.B. Ripley) and her cousin Emily Plamondon survived the Iroquois Theatre Fire. Charlotte's parents, Charles A. Plamondon and his wife were bound for England on business when the Lusitania went down and they perished. Their bodies were recovered and returned to Chicago for burial. And now the Eastland Disaster had claimed another Plamondon.

From Left to Right: Irene, Susan and Marie Plamondon

SUSAN PLAMONDON
Edward K. Plamondon of 4523 West Jackson Boulevard, a cousin of the late Charles A. Plamondon, was aboard the Eastland with his wife, Susan, daughters Marie and Irene and nephew and niece, Mr. and Mrs. William J. Plamondon of 4135 Indiana Avenue. When the boat listed all were plunged into the river. Through the efforts of the men the two girls and Mrs. W. J. Plamondon were saved. Marie and Irene Plamondon were taken to St. Luke's Hospital. Susan remained missing and unidentified for several days.

The funeral of Mrs. Susan Plamondon was held on July 29th, 1915 at St. Mel's Catholic Chapel, 4319 Washington Boulevard. She was buried at Mount Carmel Cemetery. At the time of the funeral, Marie and Irene Plamondon, 18 and 17 years old respectively, remained in a serious condition at the family home. Both were suffering from shock.

CHARLOTTE PLAMONDON
An Account From the Boxes (pp 129-132)
The first two lower boxes on the left of the stage were occupied by a party of young women who were being entertained by Mrs. Rollin A. Keyes of Evanston, in honor of her young daughter, Miss Catherine Keyes, who was home from school in Washington for the holidays.

"We arrived at the theater shortly after the first act," said Miss Emily Plamondon of Astoria, Oregon, a member of the party, in describing the fire. "As far as I could see the house was filled with women and children, who occupied seats on the first floor and in the galleries. It was about a quarter to 3 when one of the young women in the party asked Mrs. Keyes if she did not smell something burning and an instant afterward a great cloud of smoke spread across the stage and into the body of the house. Immediately we realized the danger we were in, as did all around us. Instead of a rush to the doors, the audience gazed for a moment at the stage, and as a whole the people appeared very calm, under the circumstances, and as if contemplating how they would escape."

"Again another cloud of smoke issued from the stage and several stage hands appeared, shouting at the top of their voices for the people to sit down. But it was only for an instant that they obeyed, for by that time the smoke had spread through the theater and men, women and children were gasping for breath. Then a mad rush was made for the doors and for the supposed exits, but in vain. Mrs. Pearson and Mrs. Keyes commanded us to keep together by all means and just as we were leaving the boxes the theater became darkened, which, I suppose, was caused by the burning out of the electric light, and thus made our escape the harder. We plodded through the aisles until we came within about ten feet of the main entrace without encountering any violence from the panic-stricken women and children who were fighting for their lives. Then the crush became terrible and the members of our party, Mrs. Rollin A. Keyes, Mrs. Pearson, Misses Charlotte Plamondon, Catherine Keyes, Elmore of Oregon, Amelia Ormsby, Grace Hills, Josephine Eddy and Miss Elizabeth Eddy realized that it would be impossible to get to the street through that door."

"It was only a short time, however, when somebody knocked down two doors, which had been locked, and the majority of the people on the first floor escaped through them without serious injury. Miss Charlotte Plamondon, who was bruised about the face and hands, and I were the only ones in the party who escaped with our wraps. The others had their clothes torn almost from them, as they were hurrying from the burning theater."

"Before we had left the boxed the fire had spread to the first row of seats and the stage hands were endeavoring to lower the asbestos curtain. When it was about half down it became caught and the attempt to drop it was abandoned. A great gush of fire then spread to the draperies over the boxes. The people were wonderfully calm, it seemed to me, for so crucial a moment and it was not until smoke filled the house that they became frantic and screamed for help. We could hardly breathe and I believe had we been in the theater a few minutes longer we, too, would have been suffocated, as the heat and smoke were becoming unendurable. Had the exits been open and unlocked the loss of life would not have been nearly so great."

"We were seated for half an hour before the fire broke out. Our attention was first attracted by a wreath of flame, which crept slowly along the red velvet curtain. We all noticed it. So did the audience and I could see little girls and boys in the orchestra chairs point upward at the slowly moving line of flame. As the fire spread the people in the balcony on on the first floor arose to their feet as if to rush out of the place. Then Eddie Foy hurried to the front of the stage and commanded the people to be quiet, saying that if they would remain seated the danger would be averted. All the people who were then on the stage maintained remarkable presence of mind and the chorus girls endeavored to divert the attention of their auditors off the fire by going on with their parts."

"I looked over the faces of the audience and remarked how many children were present. I could see their faces filled with interest and their eyes wide open as they watched the burning curtain."

"Then I looked behind me and realized the awful consequence should the people become alarmed. The doors, except for the one through which we entered the theater, were closed and apparently fastened. Up in the balcony I could see people crowding forward in order to obtain a better view. Again the audience arose as if to flee."

"Eddie Foy again rushed on the stage and waved his arms in a gesture for the people to be seated. But just then the shrill cry of a woman caused the women and children to rise to their feet, filled with a sudden and uncontrollable terror."

"'Fire!' I heard her exclaim, and in another instant the eyes of the audience were turned to the exits in the rear. The flames lighted up the stage as the light tinsel stuffs blazed up, and the scene changed from mimicry to tragedy. A confused, rumbling noise filled the theater from the pit to the dome. I knew it was the sound of a thousand people preparing to leave their seats and rush madly from the impending danger. The noise of their footsteps in the balcony was soon deadened by the cries for aid from those who were hemmed in by the struggling mass."