The liar who shouted “Fire!”

What happened to Joulupukki after giving Toivo his present on stage.

Anything after the shove in our backs, gingham dresses twisting, the flash of a forehead as long ribboned hair went down, down, a sack coat in front, a miner’s iron-nailed boots kicking, ears bursting, screams as we tumbled down, down the narrow stairs, over our friends, the push, the crush, the rip of fabric, baby’s white stockings, heads, hands, the hit, the silence.

Union organizer Big Annie cupping her hands—“No fire!”

Mammi.

Tomorrow's headlines: Italian Hall disaster, seventy-three dead, fifty-nine children.