Chicago’s history is seared throughout with catastrophes involving conflagrations. The most significant and sensational was the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, which will forever be a part of our city’s lore. Then there’s the 1894 fire that destroyed most of the World’s Columbian Exposition buildings following the fair’s closing. The incomparably tragic 1958 Our Lady of Angels School fire in Humboldt Park claimed 95 lives. And the 1967 McCormick Place fire destroyed what was then the city’s primary convention center.
However, the second-most destructive fire in Chicago history occurred on May 19, 1934, when a drought-fueled blaze destroyed over 300 square acres of the livestock processing district known as the Union Stock Yards. Yet the legacy of “Chicago’s Other Great Fire” lies not in its devastating intensity nor its enormous property loss. Rather, it lies in the reminder of the Stock Yards’ century-long role as a powerhouse symbol of the city’s commerce and culture — the “Hog Butcher for the World,” as Carl Sandburg described in his famous poem “Chicago.”
Chicago in the spring of 1934 was windy, dry and caught in the grip of the Great Depression. The only civic brightness came from the great Century of Progress world’s fair at Burnham Park, celebrating technology, innovation and hope for the future. Roughly 4 miles separated the fair and its symbol of progress from the Stock Yards and its symbol of process.
The Stock Yards occupied nearly 475 acres, with Pershing Road to the north, 47th Street to the south, Halsted Street to the east and Ashland Avenue to the west. They were built on the premise that efficient meat processing could be achieved by consolidating various steps, such as livestock feeding, slaughtering, packing and transportation, at a central location. In their over 100 years of operation, the Stock Yards became an enormous financial driver for the city, fostered many manufacturing innovations, spun off key ancillary enterprises and assisted the integration into American culture of thousands of immigrants, particularly those from Eastern Europe.
Yet the Stock Yards also gained notoriety for their environmental harm, e.g., the infamous “Bubbly Creek”; labor exploitation; and disease, as famously chronicled by the muckraking author Upton Sinclair in his 1906 expose “The Jungle.”
The Stock Yards, consisting of a vast complex of livestock pens and barns, were primarily made of wood. Combined with other flammable elements such as hay, feed and animal waste, the Stock Yards were a tinderbox, particularly vulnerable to the dry conditions of 1934 Chicago.
More Top Picks Diving Board
The fire broke out at a quarter after 4 on the afternoon of May 19. While the exact cause was never confirmed, there are two theories about what set off the conflagration: an errant lit cigarette or spontaneous combustion of the accumulated hay. The fire moved rapidly through the Stock Yards, aided by 60 mph wind gusts that sent the fire in multiple directions. Flames jumped arterial streets. The wind carried embers that created secondary fires outside the district. Dense smoke prevented flights from landing at what is now Midway Airport.
By the time firefighting crews had the fire under control in the late evening, it had destroyed over 25% of the livestock pens and barns, along with many of the district’s most prominent buildings and offices. An “L” extension into the Stock Yards also burned, along with over 100 freight cars, six fire trucks and thousands of yards of fire hose. Thousands of stock animals perished. Yet the loss of human life was miraculously low, thanks in part to a massive response from almost 80% of the city’s Fire Department.
At the fire’s peak, speculation arose that it might spread east to the fairgrounds on the lakefront. This conjured the image of a line of fire connecting the city’s most utilitarian of keystones, the Stock Yards, with its most imaginative, the fair.
Amazingly, the Stock Yards partially reopened on May 21, thanks to massive cleanup and reconstruction initiatives. A major investment funded the construction of new buildings with fire-resistant materials. The Stock Yards remained an active part of Chicago commerce for many years before yielding to decentralized processing methods, ultimately closing in 1971.
Today, no evidence remains of the Century of Progress. Little evidence of the Stock Yards remains as well. The area itself was converted to an industrial park. None of the “L” branch, the massive supporting rail yards nor the distinctive packing house odors survive. The infamous Bubbly Creek remains.
But the spirit of the Stock Yards lives on through the magnificently restored Stock Yards Gate, marking its primary eastern entrance. The gate has been recognized as an official Chicago Landmark, included in the National Register of Historic Places and anointed a National Historic Landmark.
So the next time you’re heading to Sox Park, give yourself a little more travel time. To the southwest of the ballpark is a plaza where Exchange and Peoria streets intersect. That’s where you’ll find “The Gate.” Pull over and imagine the activity, the smells, and especially the “stormy, husky, brawling, bareheaded” city and its stock yards that Sandburg wrote of 112 years ago. Then go ahead and enjoy the game.
Michael Peregrine is a retired Chicago lawyer whose paternal grandparents were longtime South Siders.
Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email [email protected].