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Union Depot
Union Depot
  Without losing sight of all the loss and suffering, it is important to remember how much of the city did not burn. Most heavy industries, including the stockyards, were located west or south of the burnt district, out of harm's way. The downtown railroad depots were leveled, but not the far more critical rail infrastructure. What the fire could not touch was Chicago's most important feature, its location, which made it more accessible than any place on earth to resources and markets throughout the globe at the very time when America was taking over world leadership in industrial enterprise.

But for the moment--and it turned out to be a brief moment--the devastation caused by the fire was inescapable. There were ruins everywhere. After the first shock wore off, the post-holocaust cityscape quickly came to possess a double fascination, both in itself and because of its association with what it suggested about the past and future of Chicago. The blocks and blocks of ruins became a popular subject for photographers and illustrators. "The town is beginning to fill with aesthetic sight-seers," the New York Tribune  reported three days after the fire went out. "The artists of the illustrated papers are seated at every coign of vantage, sketching for dear life against the closing of the mail." Both the quantity and the quality of the ruins seemed to some to endow the young city with a place in history. "No city can equal now the ruins of Chicago, not even Pompeii, much less Paris," E.J. Goodspeed bragged in his history of the fire.

Another contemporary chronicle, James W. Sheahan's and George T. Upton's The Great Conflagration, contained a six-page meditation on the sublime scene, titled "Chicago by Moonlight" and brimming with mythological allusion and historical reference. To Goodspeed, writing in a similarly purple passage, the fire seemed to defy the usual restrictions of time, with which Chicago's spirit had so little patience. This city with no past now "in the compass of a single night" had ruins equal to those of great and ancient civilizations. "Here all time is reproduced in a moment," he wrote, conveniently forgetting that it was the city's hasty growth that had put its future at risk in the first place.

Post Office and Custom House
Post Office and Custom House

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The Great Chicago Fire and the Web of Memory
Copyright © 1996 by the Chicago Historical Society and the Trustees of Northwestern University
Last revised 9-30-97