Audiobook Excerpt
The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America |
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Speaker 1: How easy it was to disappear: A thousand trains a day entered or left Chicago. Many of these trains brought single young women who had never even seen a city but now hoped to make one of the biggest and toughest their home. Jane Addams, the urban reformer who founded Chicago's Hull House, wrote, "Never before in civilization have such numbers of young girls been suddenly released from the protection of the home and permitted to walk unattended upon the city streets and to work under alien roofs."
The women sought work as typewriters, stenographers, seamstresses, and weavers. The men who hired them were for the most part and moral citizens intent on efficiency and profit, but not always. On March 30, 1890, an officer of the First National Bank placed a warning in the help-wanted section of the Chicago Tribune to inform female stenographers of our growing conviction that no thoroughly honorable businessman who is this side of dotage ever advertises for a lady stenographer who is a blonde, is good-looking, is quite alone in the city, or will transmit her photograph. All such advertisements upon their face bear the marks of vulgarity, nor do we regard it safe for any lady to answer such unseemly utterances.
The women walked to work on streets. The angled past bars, gambling houses, and bordellos. Vice thrived with official indulgence. "The parlors and bedrooms in which honest folk lived were, as now, rather dull places," wrote Ben Hecht, late in his life trying to explain this persistent trade of old Chicago. It was pleasant, in a way, to know that outside their windows, the devil was still capering in a flare of brimstone. In an analogy that would prove all to apt, Max Weber likened the city to a human being with his skin removed.
Anonymous death came early and often. Each of the thousand trains that entered and left the city did so at grade level. You could step from a curb and be killed by the Chicago Limited. Every day on average, two people were destroyed at the city's rail crossings. Their injuries were grotesque. Pedestrians retrieved severed heads. There were other hazards. Streetcars fell from drawbridges. Horses bolted and dragged carriages into crowds. Fires took a dozen lives a day. In describing the fire dead, the term the newspapers most liked to use was roasted. That was diptheria, typhus, cholera, influenza, and there was murder.
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