Threadbare Chicago World Fair
Chicago World Expositon – Cutting Room Floor
Chapter 34
All year Abe and I had been reading newspaper accounts of the extraordinary Chicago World Exposition. The four-hundredth celebration of Columbus’s discovery of the New World would be an international event to outdo all others. New Yorkers were disappointed to lose out as the coveted hosts. Still, secretly, I was thrilled to have an excuse to leave the city for a week-long vacation and another train adventure after the sorrowful trip to Saranac.
The Fair would be enormous – one square mile along Lake Michigan’s shore on a stretch of reclaimed swampland. Fredrick Olmstead, who designed our famous Central Park, planned the fairgrounds, and we couldn’t wait to see his creation. The Fair, built on low land, was set in a labyrinth of lagoons. Boats carrying groups of visitors viewed the magnificence of the water both within and outside the Exposition.
We’d assembled a large group, my brood joining Sadie’s family and my younger brother, Joe and his new wife, Ruth. To our delight, Papa, Rebecca, and Abby decided to join us at the last minute. Nate and his childhood love, Jenny, had been blessed with a second child a month earlier and couldn’t travel. But Nate, who had taken over the poultry farm upstate was fine staying behind, minding the chickens.
None of us expected Papa and Rebecca to travel so far. Papa had never left New York since his ocean voyage to America twenty-six years earlier. With any mention of a long trip, he’d say that the voyage from Germany had shown him enough excitement for several lifetimes. But the chance to ride a comfortable train halfway across his new country pulled at him like a magnet. In the end, he couldn’t resist.
Our families gathered at the majestic Grand Central Station on a hot, early morning in August. Beginning the trip at our own New York architectural wonder and ending with Chicago’s fantastic Fair seemed fitting. After all, the two cities fought to the bitter end to host the Fair. At the very least, we would embark with hometown pride.
I stood on the platform, admiring our handsome family. Papa was the only exception, having noticeably aged over the last few years. What was left of his hair had turned white, and deep creases ran across his forehead, revealing the years of worry and loss. But his smile lines, like two elongated parentheses down his cheeks, still bore his optimism. Papa was a survivor, always stepping forward into the unknown, placing one foot ahead of the other. He stood with a slight bend, like the trees in the forest of Saranac Lake, as if leaning to absorb maximum sunlight. That’s what a life of physical labor will do to a man.
I put my arm through his. “I love you, Papa. I’m delighted you and Rebecca chose to join us.”
“Ah, me too, my shayna punim,” He glanced at my overflowing satchel, “Are those books and games for the kids? Your mama would have loved this trip. I’m sorry you couldn’t have her for more years.”
His comment came unexpectedly, and I found myself transported to Mama’s hospital bed, once again crying into her cheek as she inhaled her last breaths. She’d been my age when she died, forced to face her mortality young, just like her mother. I thought of all the beautiful events they’d both missed. I whispered into the air, “We’re all okay, Mama.”
Julian ran toward me, interrupting my thoughts. “The train should be here in exactly three minutes. Papa went to get candy. He’ll miss it!”
“Don’t worry. The conductor said the train would sit in the station for at least a half-hour before we leave. I’ll wager they’ll replace the engineer with a new one for our trip,” I said. “And don’t forget, they must load our dinners and drinks on board.”
“How many engineers will there be? Do they sleep on the train?” he asked. Without giving me time to answer, he turned to leave. “I’m going to ask Uncle Joe. He’ll know because he’s the smartest person in our family.” With that, he ran down the platform to find my brother.
“Joe was just like Julian as a child. So smart and impatient.” Papa laughed. “Big things are in store for that kid. That is, if he doesn’t drive you crazy first.”
Crazy was right. I hoped a week at the Fair would keep Julian sated. Still, another part of me was afraid it might ignite more of his interminable curiosity.
I looked around at the women in our group. We wore simple travel clothes, knowing it would be hot and our quarters tight. Each outfit would be worn at least three times. Our pastel linen dresses had puffed upper sleeves, and sheer bodices buttoned to the neck. This simple ensemble included a straw boater, designed more for sun protection than style. To no one’s surprise, Rebecca added an extra touch to hers by tucking a peacock feather into the aqua taffeta ribbon encircling the cap.
The men wore lightweight summer suits and stiff, felt bowlers with domed crowns. They stood sweating and pulling at their collars, impatient to shed their jackets and hats once on board. I inwardly chuckled, thinking about Leo Baum and our jokes about fashion If this look weren’t such a popular style, people would think we were part of a vaudeville act. All we needed were dancing canes.
The platform was dark with built-up soot. What were we thinking? How will we ever keep these light-colored dresses clean?
A woman remarked as she threaded her arm through her companion’s. “Your outfits are lovely! Standing together, you look like a fresh flower garden! Going to the Fair?”
We nodded and smiled.
I wondered how fresh we’d look after wearing these dresses in the heat and soot for a couple of days.
Joe elbowed Papa. “Suppose the train averages somewhere between thirty to forty miles per hour. In that case, the trip should take twenty-four hours without counting stops. Papa, how long do you think it would’ve taken in your old red cart?”
“Hilarious, wise guy. I miss those ‘ole horses. Zero and Infinity stood by me until they no longer stood at all. I didn’t care how slowly they pulled my trusty wagon.” Papa’s laugh was followed by a sigh, and I understood why. Those horses were as much a part of his family as we were.
A half-hour later, the conductor shouted, “All aboard, last call for the train to Chicago.” I climbed the steps, looking for Abe, and noticed Julian across the platform, pulling on Abe’s arm and scolding, “Come on, Papa! Faster!”
Julian glared at me as they boarded, “I told you so, Mama!”
“I had plenty of time!” Abe laughed. “I wanted to make one more purchase.”
The rest of our group was on board, and our valises and Miriam’s carriage were safely stowed in the luggage car. We’d booked sleeper berths on a Pullman car at the end of the train for the two-day trip. Perhaps extravagant, but well deserved after years of hard work.
We sat on plush couches, captivated by our ornate surroundings. The finishing was elegant, in brass and wood. The train benches were upholstered in dark green paisley fabric with walnut padded armrests reminiscent of Bergere chairs.
“Children, please don’t drop food on the fabric,” I warned as I realized they’d eat lunches on their laps.
The Pullman car was outfitted with two-bench sections that converted to beds at night, separated by thick, dark green privacy drapes. Similar drapes pulled across the outer aisle and exterior windows to offer complete privacy and muffled sound. Each berth was stocked with clean towels, sheets, blankets, and pillows stored in the overhead compartment, which would be assembled by the train staff in the early evening while we dined.
Our families broke into groups of three or four within each seating section. Facing one other, we talked and watched the bucolic scenery roll by. Rebecca, Sadie, and I sat together during the first leg of the trip, working on our needle projects and reviewing the guidebooks. Hannah and I agreed to take turns watching Miriam, but Abe insisted on first touring the train.
“Abby, stop drawing on the dirty windows! You’re getting your hands filthy.” Rebecca scolded.
“Julian started it,” Abby said, her face full of accusation.
Abe chimed in. “Abby and Julian, come with us. We’re taking a tour of the train. Let’s see who can find a sink first to wash those filthy hands.”
Rebecca shook her head. “Your husband has the patience of a saint!”
“A saint? In my Jewish house?” I laughed. “We might be casual about our beliefs but have no saints yet.”
“Oh, Tillie, you know what I mean.” Rebecca laughed and squeezed my hand. “You’re a lucky girl, but he’s even luckier!”
I returned her affectionate squeeze.
“It’s like we’re riding in a traveling palace!” I said as I pulled knitting out of my satchel. Sadie and I were working on winter cardigan sweaters and had selected beautifully carved pearl buttons to complete them.
“This is delightful!” said Rebecca, patting the bench and reaching into her satchel, pulling out a detailed Jacobean crewel project she had designed. She was making a couch pillow for her home.
“Rebecca, hold it up. I’d like to take a closer look.” Sadie leaned forward to study the stitching.
Rebecca had drawn a winding vine around the linen twill edges, filling in the middle with a garden of overlapping flowers, stems, and petals, all waiting in turn for her jewel-tone embroidery silk and yarn to fill the spaces. The portion she’d completed was breathtaking.
“You put us to shame. Did you design it?” I asked.
“Yes. You know me. I’ve been sewing all my life and picked up some tricks along the way.” A small smile crossed her face as she put her fantasy into words. “In a different time, I might have formally learned the craft and worked as a designer.”
“You know the craft. You’ve been practicing for years and could teach it,” I insisted. “You should let Abe and me introduce you to Leo Baum at Bloomingdales. Maybe he’ll buy some of your designs.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Don’t you think I’m getting a little old for that? And I still have Abby to mind.”
“Think about it, Rebecca. You’ve tested your designs on dresses you’ve already constructed and sold, and they’re exquisite. Certainly, better than some of the ready-to-wear garments we’ve seen around town,” added Sadie.
Rebecca smiled. Deep down, she knew we were right. Many talented seamstresses were working in isolation at home. I’d discuss it with her more after we returned home. In the meantime, I was grateful we were on good terms. I wanted us all to have a memorable time.
I heard a loud clunk. “What in God’s name was that?” I shouted.
“Nothing, Mama,” Julian blurted. “I was checking how the upper berths work, and one accidentally dropped. No one’s hurt.”
"Put it back immediately and stop playing with every gadget you can find!” I scolded.
“Okay, Mama.”
Turning to the women, I sighed in frustration, “How much longer till we get to Chicago?”
*
So began the rhythm of our long ride. As the train sped west, the following cycle was repeated more times than I could count - I knit a few rows of my sweater, read pages of my guidebook, and was interrupted by a ‘Mama. I need you.’ As expected, Julian was punished for forgetting about pulling the cords. He accidentally pulled a second cord that beckoned the conductor. At noon, we unwrapped our sandwiches and rotated the seating. Miriam, surprisingly well-behaved, settled down for an afternoon nap. The train gently rocked in its steady motion, and I drifted to sleep with the baby.
A light tap on my shoulder woke me from a dreamless slumber.
“Tillie, sorry to disturb you, but I thought we should go to the dining car early for dinner,” Abe whispered. “We have a large group, and it might be too crowded if we wait. I’ll take Julian and head over to see if we can reserve a few tables before the rush.”
“Good idea. Perhaps the diner car can fit us in around 5:30, and we’ll try to get the kids sleeping by dusk.” Both Sadie and Rebecca nodded, agreeing with the plan.
I didn’t have to lift a finger. Sitting in a comfortable chair while others served our dinner was glorious. Starched white linens were held firmly in place by the weight of imported floral dishware and ornate silverware on each table. The finishing touch was a white porcelain vase of freshly cut red and orange zinnias.
“Mama, what’s beef goulash?” asked Julian.
“Goulash is similar to brisket but cut into small pieces,” I said.
“Let’s get a couple of bottles of wine,” said Papa. “That might help us settle down to sleep.”
"Good idea,” said Abe.
“Can I have some too?” Hannah looked at Papa with her sunniest smile.
“I don’t see why not.” Papa laughed. “You are quite a young lady these days!”
We relaxed in the dining car for an hour, enjoying a delicious four-course dinner. It was a delightful way to launch our week-long adventure. After an appetizer of chicken broth or freshly squeezed fruit juice, we chose roast chicken with paper-thin crispy skin, beef goulash with potato dumplings, or pan-fried trout. We then chose a side dish of string beans with sliced almonds, baked potato, butter, or fresh summer squash. The waiter brought a basket of freshly baked Parker House rolls for everyone. Finally, the dessert selection included bread pudding with whipped cream, chocolate cake, or melon. Rebecca, the last of us to keep a kosher diet, ordered the fish and managed to piece together a satisfying meal. We kept our menus to add to our growing souvenir collection.
The younger children were captivated, staring out the train windows at the sprawling farms and the animals that roamed the land. As dusk descended, the moving landscape faded from view. We talked, ate, and watched the scenery melt into the darkness.
“Papa, where do the animals sleep?” Julian asked.
“They either sleep outside or roam back to their barns. With that thought, it’s time for us to head back to our berths and prepare for the night,” Abe said.
Chapter 35
Firmly grasping Miriam’s hand, we climbed from the train car onto the platform, relieved to stretch our cramped legs. The platform station was located near the front gate of the Fair and hotels, the last stop before downtown Chicago. The developers had thought of everything.
Abe carried our luggage, and Hannah held Julian’s hand. Ahead was a view of the giant Ferris Wheel and, to our right, the magnificent fairgrounds. Speechless, I’d never seen such a splendor of white neoclassic buildings, all framed with tall columns. Giant mythological statues were scattered about.
Marveling at the view, I said, “It’s like a dream.”
“Extraordinary. I can’t believe it!” Papa gasped.
He was breathing heavily, and Rebecca noticed too. She tried to wrangle a suitcase from his hand.
“Sam, let me take some of that luggage,” she insisted. “It’s too much for you.”
“No! I’m fine, Rebecca,” Papa snapped back.
Julian hopped up and down on the platform. “Zadie, they call it the White City. Mama, can we go on the Ferris Wheel?”
“Let’s settle in and have lunch. I read there’s a good restaurant next door to the rooming house. We can go over our plans for the afternoon and evening,” I said as we stiffly walked to the hotel district, our bodies unsteady, adapting to stationary land.
Abe placed his hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Son, we’ll ride the Ferris Wheel later. We’ve all week to explore.” He glanced back at me with an ‘I’ll handle him’ expression.
Abe and Max had spent weeks debating whether we should lodge in the fancier, but less expensive hotels in downtown Chicago, or more costly lodgings within walking distance of the Fair. Sadie and I preferred to pay extra and stay at a boarding house near the Fairgrounds. What clinched our decision was the newspaper reports of the putrid smell drifting into the city from the stockyard and slaughterhouses west of town. The stink reportedly engulfed the city, but not the air seven miles south at the Fairgrounds. No one argued with us after reading that.
“Walking directly in and out will be easier with all of the children and Miriam’s carriage,” I said. “We’ll be exhausted by the end of the day. And, if we’re not too tired, we can return to the Fair in the evening on the same ticket. Besides, the entrance fee is only fifty cents for adults and twenty-five for Julian and Abby.”
Our rooming house was Spartan. For me, it was completely acceptable. There were hall bathrooms, running water, and a simple but pleasant restaurant next door, Sally’s at the Fair, known for tasty, nutritious food. From what I’d heard, we’d be stuffing ourselves silly with exotic fare and might choose to skip lunch or dinner. Many of the exhibits also sold food, and several eating areas were scattered throughout.
“They have a lot of nerve charging close to double the hotel rates downtown. The rooms are barely roomier than our coach on the train,” Abe scoffed when we opened our door. “My God, it’s as small as the tenement bedroom.”
“Sweetheart, we won’t be in our rooms much, and it’s clean. Look at the large windows. They’ll let in the cool night air for a good night’s sleep.” I reminded him, “We’ll be fine, and remember, we all agreed we wanted to be as far from the stockyard stink as possible.”
After we dropped off our bags and freshened up, we gathered at Sally’s for in-season sliced tomato sandwiches and lemonade. Afterward, we enjoyed a delicious fruit plate laden with cut melon, strawberries, and peaches.
“Let’s pick a few times and places to meet if we get separated,” said Sadie. “Otherwise, we could roam around here for days searching for each other, and I know my boys want to explore on their own.”
“I agree. And I’m happy to sew the younger children’s names and hotel into their clothing in case the unthinkable happens,” Rebecca added.
“Tomorrow, we’ll pick meeting places and times so you can explore alone.” Sadie turned to her older sons, her face suddenly stern. “If you’re not there on time, you will stay together with us.”
I’d been told it was impossible to see the entire Fair and was cautioned about some areas we should avoid. For instance, outside the fairgrounds, the Midway Plaisance was reputed to draw a rough crowd. Crimes were reported in the papers daily.
We split into smaller groups for the afternoon. Julian begged to join Joe and Ruth, and thankfully, they agreed.
Joe said, “We’re going to start in the Electricity Building. That will probably take us all afternoon.”
“Honestly, I’d like to walk around and get the feel of the place,” I said. “Abe, let’s take Miriam’s carriage, and if we’re lucky, she’ll nap while we explore. Hannah, are you staying with Papa?”
Hannah nodded and took Papa’s hand. She barely had time to be his little girl, and now that she was a young woman, she hung onto every moment together.
“I wouldn’t mind walking through the Manufactures and Liberal Arts Pavilion. I hear it’s the largest building in the world. It’s supposed to have thousands of exhibits,” Abe said.
We set off to the Fair with our maps, guidebooks, comfortable shoes, and name tags sewn inside the children’s clothing.
The majesty of the white city was overwhelming. The gigantic buildings, meticulously landscaped labyrinth of waterways, and floral displays were too much to absorb at once. I stepped to the side of the walkway and took a deep breath. “Abe, my head is spinning like a top. It’s hard to know where to start.”
“Let’s stick with our plan and stroll. Miriam’s happy in the carriage, playing with her doll. We can walk east to the lake, turn north, head to the Spanish pavilion, and see Columbus’s ships. It’s only fitting to start with the man of honor,” Abe said.
“Great idea. I’d love to see the three ships, and maybe that will help me get my bearings.” I thought about my brother, Joe, “I hope Julian isn’t becoming too much for Joe to handle. I’ll bet his eyes are popping out.”
The thousands of visitors faded into the background as my little family walked onto the grounds. On our right, Lake Michigan was deep blue and speckled with small boats sailing to the horizon. The puffy, cumulus clouds hung from the heavens like cotton balls on strings. I shifted into a relaxed pace beside my handsome husband as we strolled beside the endless Manufacturers and Liberal Arts building on our way to Columbus’s sailboats and Spanish pavilion.
Abe pointed to the left. “I’ll have you know this is the largest building on the planet. I’m not sure how we’ll find anything in there, but I’d like to walk through on our way back from the ships.”
“What are you looking for? Something in particular?”
“I’d like to see the displays with buttons and fasteners. Maybe a clever button for my inventory.”
“Always thinking about work,” I laughed lightly. “Right now, it’s the furthest thing from my mind.”
It was close to four when we walked into the Manufactures Building. It was massive, a third of a mile long, a sixth wide, with a tall, arched roof. There were thousands upon thousands of displays chaotically arranged. We used a floor map to navigate the maze. Walking toward the textile area, we passed exotic household goods from China and Japan and displays of spices, music boxes, chocolate, hats, shoes, riding sticks, and hand-made lace from Italy. It was the most bizarre assortment of products I’d ever seen.
Finally, we found the buttons, not a few, but millions, from every country imaginable. I took Miriam’s carriage inside the exhibit to look. Abe stayed nearby and talked to the vendors. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man directing Abe to an exhibit across the room.
Abe called to me. “I’d like you to see an invention the attendant told me about.”
We walked across the room while Abe searched the tables. “Here it is. Will you look at that!”
My jaw dropped as the attendant demonstrated the hook and eye device that joined two fabric sides in a clean seam. He pulled a small tab of metal up and down, the seam joining and separating the two pieces of fabric.
I asked the man, “Tell me, is anyone using it in manufacturing? What do you see as its future?”
“This slide fastener was invented by my boss, Mr. Whitcomb Judson. He’s around here somewhere,” he said with an accent I didn’t recognize. “Mr. Judson was fascinated by sewing machines. He was trying to solve the button problem. It takes too many to close the opening. The slide fastener solves that problem and eliminates the buttons.”
Abe looked at me and raised his eyebrows. We were reading each other’s minds. This gadget could replace buttons.
“I’d like to meet Mr. Judson and learn more about his fastener,” Abe said to the man. “But we need to join our soon. What time will he be here tomorrow morning? Can you take my card?”
“He usually comes in around nine after his breakfast. I’ll take your card and have him wait for you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be back at nine.” Abe shook the man’s hand.
Looking at my watch, I saw it was growing late. “We should begin walking to the Ferris Wheel. It’s halfway across the Fair on the Midway. Lord knows how long it’ll take. Everything’s so spread out.”
We turned and retraced our steps out of the building. The Ferris Wheel, located on the Midway Plaisance, was outside the official fairground to the west. On our way, we passed a beautiful lagoon. “This has Olmstead’s signature all over it.” said Abe.
I nodded as my eyes drank in the water and wooded island within the curved lagoon. Handsome men wearing black striped shirts, red scarves, and black caps stood in the rear of long narrow boats, guiding them through the blue water, singing arias from Italian operas.
“We must take Hannah on one of these rides.”
The Women’s Pavilion stood at the western edge near the park exit and the entrance to the Midway. “I’ll bet Rebecca could lose herself in that building for the entire week!” I said, “Tomorrow, I’d like to look, too.”
“Hold onto your bag, Tillie,” Abe cautioned me as we left the fairground and headed up the Midway promenade. “We’re carrying quite a bit of cash.”
The Midway Plaisance was an international entertainment area adjacent to the Fair, containing food and exhibits. The Board of Lady Managers banned them from inside the fairgrounds, believing they invited depravity. They were furious at the lascivious nature of many Midway exhibits and the preponderance of buildings featuring alcoholic beverages. The guidebooks had warned about pickpockets.
We saw Joe, Ruth, and Julian as we neared the ticket booth for the Ferris Wheel. They were all eating a popcorn treat from small boxes. “What are you eating?” I called out as we approached the group.
“It’s called Cracker Jack. It’s delicious,” shouted Julian. “Miriam, want some?”
“Not now.” I shot back. “Miriam just had ice cream. Besides, that looks like something she could choke on.”
Miriam, realizing she was denied, shouted, “Want some!”
Her face turned scarlet as she worked her way to an angry cry. “I want some! Some!” She began to sob.
Joe, watching Miriam’s tantrum, turned to Ruth. “Don’t be in such a hurry for babies, darling. Enjoy our peace while we still have it.”
“You’re not being helpful.” I cut in.
Looking for a distraction in my bag, I turned to Julian. “While we wait for the others, could you tell us about the Ferris Wheel?”
Disregarding his uncle and Miriam, Julian was excited to report what he’d learned, “Mama, it’s so big it can hold two thousand people at the same time. Forty people fit inside each of those cars, sitting down.” Julian absorbed facts like a sponge. “And it’s as tall as a twenty-five-story building.”
Miriam, now inconsolable, was kicking her feet and banging her head on the carriage’s mattress, making my nerves raw. “Abe, let’s take her back, feed her, and then down for bed.” I turned to Joe, “Would you mind keeping Julian a while longer while you wait for the others? We’ll catch up at the rooming house.”
Joe nodded and smiled at Ruth with an expression that unmistakably said, “I told you so.”
Abe and I scurried the few blocks back to the rooming house. To our surprise, Papa, Rebecca, Hannah, and Abby sat on the porch when we returned.
“Aren’t you going on the Ferris Wheel?” I asked.
Rebecca answered after shifting her eyes to Papa, “I wanted to come back. My feet are too tired from all the walking.”
Abe offered, “I can take Hannah and Abby back for a ride. Miriam was coming apart. She’s exhausted from a full day and no nap.”
Rebecca looked at Abe with a grateful smile. “Yes, good idea. But please don’t let them out of your sight.”
“We’ll get something to eat on the Midway,” Abe called as they headed back out the door. “There’s lots of food there.”
“No treif, Abby,” Rebecca answered, reminding Abby to keep kosher.
*
After a twenty-minute break to wash up for dinner and change Miriam, the four of us met at Sally’s, enjoying a lovely roast chicken, rolls, string beans, and corn dinner. Miriam sat on my lap, corn kernels coating her clean nightwear, sucking on a bare ear of corn until she drifted to sleep. I set her, corn kernels and all, into the carriage and resettled myself at the table. “I’ll let her sleep now and deal with the mess later.”
I sought Papa’s eyes. “What’s going on? You don’t fool me in the least.”
Rebecca glanced at him. “Sam, tell Tillie. It’s not for me to say.”
“Tell me what? What’s wrong?” I asked. Despite my fatigue, I grew more alert and concerned by the second.
Papa paused and drew in a deep breath through his nose.
I looked at Rebecca. Her eyes were glistening.
He cleared his throat. “Tillie, you know I’m not a young man anymore. My heart isn’t young either and it’s not working as well as it once did. The doctor said I should slow down.”
“Sam, tell her the rest.” Rebecca insisted.
“Rebecca, don’t get worked up.” Papa looked at me, “I had a couple of spells, that’s all.”
My heart dropped in my chest. “What do you mean, spells? Does Hannah know? She works with Dr. Boro and understands these things.”
“No, dear, I don’t want the children involved.” Papa paused before saying, “Sometimes, I get pain.”
“Like today.” Rebecca said in a loud whisper. “What will we do if you get sick, here at the Fair?”
“Papa, do you have medicine? Should we find a doctor just in case?” I asked.
Papa shook his head. “No doctors. I brought my nitroglycerine for pain. I will cut back on exploring the Fair and read in the afternoons. I’ll be fine.”
“That sounds wise. But one of us should stay with you in case you need anything. Maybe Rebecca and I can take turns.” I looked at Rebecca. “Would you be comfortable with that?”
“I’d still like to find out where the closest doctor is, just in case.” She paused, then added, “And I’d feel better if either Abe or Joe joins us in the morning, as a precaution.”
Papa looked at me, “No one else needs to know. I don’t want to spoil everyone’s good time.”
“I understand. But we must tell Hannah. After all, she understands the most about medicine. Besides, she’s not a child anymore.” I reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “And the adults should know if you do need help.”
He nodded with a resigned expression.
“I’m going to use that afternoon time to get Miriam napping. She was a handful by the time we got to the Ferris Wheel.”
“You know there’s not much difference between old folks and babies.” Papa winked. His skin crinkled around his soft, smiling eyes. “We both love our afternoon naps.”
Chapter 36
After a breakfast of poached eggs and toast at Sally’s, we split the group in half. The first day gave us a sense of the Fair, and our guidebooks equipped us with the details for the rest of the week. The women set out to explore the Women’s Building near the north entrance. From there, we’d go to the nearby Japanese Pavilion on an island in the lagoon. It was described as the most unusual exhibit at the Fair, exuding a sense of calm and peacefulness despite the crowds and commotion. Except for Rebecca, who packed kosher food, we anticipated experimenting with an exotic Japanese lunch.
“Joe, can we please return to the Electricity and Machinery buildings?” begged Julian. “We missed a lot of exhibits yesterday, and I want to see the motors again.”
“I’ll meet up with you boys after I speak to the inventor of that slide fastener. Do you mind if I head out alone for a little while?” Abe asked Joe and Papa. “Would you watch Julian for a couple of hours?”
We gathered our belongings, set our heavier items into Miriam’s buggy, entering the Fair with a skip to our steps.
The temperature had dropped overnight. Sadie pulled her shawl over her shoulders and said, “I’ll bet it’s freezing here in the winter with that wind off the lake. We must keep that in mind for next winter’s fabrics. Summer is a short season here, and it might be even colder on the prairie.”
The large Woman’s Building was breathtaking, a perfect emotional lift after years of being slighted by the Butterfield men. The exhibits were an inspiring example of women’s accomplishments from all over the world.
Hannah strolled, examining each exhibit. “The architect was a woman, and all of the paintings, sculptures, literature, and music were created by women too!”
“It is magnificent,” I agreed as we walked into the main concourse. To the left, a mural by Mary Cassatt flanked the entire wall.
“I love her paintings!” Sadie said as we studied the panels.
The murals showcased many women’s contributions to society, but the center panel was most empowering. It depicted modern women in an orchard picking the fruits of knowledge.
“Times are changing,” said Hannah to me. “I know it’ll be difficult, but I believe more women will become doctors as time passes. I’m picking the fruit of healing! You picked the fruit of industry.”
Sadie whispered, “I’m proud of us too. We’ve made a difference with Tea with Rose.”
We spent the morning strolling through the building, absorbing everything we could. Rebecca marveled at the ornate displays of textiles, fashion, and handicrafts. She carried a small sketch pad and furiously drew designs and jotted notes while examining the displays. “I have enough new ideas to keep me busy the rest of my days.”
Suffragists wearing banners draped diagonally across their chests were scattered inside the building and on the grounds, distributing leaflets with information about lectures on the women’s movement and other women’s events at the Fair. The air palpated with female pride and limitless opportunity.
A young woman a little older than Hannah approached us. “Where are you from?”
“New York City,” we said in unison.
“Welcome. Did you enjoy the exhibits?”
“Yes.” Hannah quickly answered. “They were marvelous.”
The woman’s tone set me on edge. “Did it strike you how none of the displays showed the submissive, oppressive roles women have played since the beginning of time?”
Her officious words threw me. I answered, “Maybe the idea was to impart a sense of optimism about the many new opportunities for women in the future.”
“True but ignoring the past as if it never happened isn’t right either.” The young woman added, her face stone serious, studying Hannah, “Women have been held back for centuries. We must unite and get the vote. Once we do, we can appoint politicians who represent our needs.” She handed a leaflet to Hannah. “Here’s a list of extraordinary women’s lectures this week. Pay special note to the speeches by Elizabeth Cady Stanton that will be read on her behalf and Susan B. Anthony. You’re the future.”
“Thank you.” I said, annoyed at her pejorative attitude as if we weren’t the very ones stretching our necks out, taking risks. I watched her walk to another group of well-dressed women. “The times are certainly changing.” Turning back to Hannah, I said, “She had some nerve.”
Sadie said, “It’s funny how even women make assumptions about each other. They can be just as guilty as the men.”
Within moments, we had gathered on the promenade, our meeting spot. Together we walked to the boat landing. As we approached, we heard a loud male voice amplified in the distance, “Ladies and gentlemen, please stay calm. We’ll get you down from your cars momentarily. Stay seated.”
“What on earth?” Rebecca cried out.
Hannah twisted her body, pointing to the Ferris Wheel in the distance. “Look!”
A voice nearby shouted, “Oh Lord, it’s stopped! People’s cars are hanging in… midair!”
Screaming coursed through the fairgrounds. The crowd began to ripple with panic.
Rebecca shouted over the clamor. “That contraption scared me from the start,”
I clutched my chest as I thought about our family on the ride last evening. I could have lost everyone I loved. “I hope they get it fixed fast. Those riders must be terrified. Sadie, you rode it last night. Is there a safe way down?”
Sadie covered her forehead to shade her view from the glare. “I don’t think so. Not without the risk of falling.”
As far away as the lagoon, pandemonium filled the air, screaming and incessant loudspeaker messages, all edged in panic. We stood spellbound, holding hands, silently praying the riders would be saved. People around us looked frozen in fright. Eyes bulging with terror, hands covering mouths, mothers grasping their children tight to their bodies.
Miraculously, as suddenly as it halted, the Ferris Wheel began orbiting again with the music blaring, turning as if nothing happened.
“Thank heaven! Praise God!” A collective wave of relief passed through the crowd. Everywhere, people clapped and cheered.
Relief swept across my chest. “Julian told me yesterday there’re over two thousand people on that insane ride at any given time. Forty people can sit in each one of those cars. It’s hard to imagine so many caught in midair. Simply the idea…” My voice faded.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink.” Sadie sighed loudly.
Hannah’s laugh cut through the tension. “Oh, Sadie, it’s still morning. If Eva could hear you, she’d be in hysterics. She always thought you were a rebel.”
We laughed with Hannah, enjoying Eva’s presence, even for the moment.
Rebecca stopped and looked at Hannah and me, “Did that happen back there a few minutes ago? I feel like I woke from a nightmare.”
We nodded and began to laugh again, diffusing our pent-up nerves.
“My goodness, the brochure didn’t mention anything about that kind of excitement.” Sadie said.
Miriam began to whine.
I handed her a bottle. “Time for a nap. Let’s take a walk back and see Zadie. I’ll get some lunch at Sally’s. You go ahead and try out the Japanese food.”
From a distance, I saw Papa rocking on the porch, reading the newspaper. I looked forward to joining him, whiling away the long afternoon knitting, talking, and drinking iced tea. Miriam was comfortably nestled in her carriage, clutching her blanket, thumb in mouth, fast asleep.
I set the carriage in a shady corner of the porch where it could catch the soft lake breeze and covered the opening with insect netting. My nose lit with the aroma of grilled sandwiches wafting through the air from Sally’s. I figured I’d give Miriam a moment to settle in and sat in a white wooden rocking chair beside Papa’s. Then I’d have him watch the carriage while I bought lunch.
“How was your day?” Papa asked as I lifted my knitting from its bag.
“Simply lovely. We toured the Women’s Building. Times are changing for women.” I shared the conversation with the suffragist we met.
“I’d like to live long enough to see women get the vote,” Papa said. “Women know what it’s like to carry the load when the husband can’t find work or is gone from the picture. They deserve a say.”
I paused, recollecting the scene with the Ferris Wheel. “But, on our way to the Japanese island, something frightening happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Ferris Wheel froze, and people were stranded in midair. It only lasted a few moments. Just as the crowds panicked, the machine moved again.” I thought for a moment. “I’m not riding on that contraption now. People were hysterical.”
Papa cleared his throat. “Yes, I heard.”
“What do you mean? You were on the other end of the fairgrounds.”
“I need to tell you something. But please, don’t get angry. It was an honest accident. You know how curious Julian is.”
I raised my voice. A wave of dread and anger charged through me. “Good God! What did that boy do now?”
Papa drew his finger to his mouth. “Shush, don’t wake the baby. No one got hurt.”
“Tell me. What did he do?”
He guided me back into the rocking chair. “Okay, but sit down and calm yourself.”
Papa began in a soft voice. “We had a wonderful time in the Hall of Electricity, and I learned about electrical currents and light. Abe left us and walked to the Manufacturing Building to meet that fellow about the thingamajig he saw yesterday.”
The heat in my face grew. “Get to the point.”
Undeterred, Papa continued at his own pace, “Joe and Julian wanted to go inside the Hall, but the loud noises were too much for me. I chose to rest on the bench under a pretty tree. Did you know they planted all the trees in one year? Quite impressive.”
“Papa, you’re stalling.”
“Well, wouldn’t you know, just a few minutes later, an officer came out of the building pulling Julian by the collar with Joe running right behind.”
“Oh no!” I put my hands to my cheeks. Did I want to hear the rest?
“I jumped up and ran to the three of them. ‘What happened?’ I asked.”
“The officer looked at me and hollered, ‘This boy is forbidden to enter the building again. If I find him anywhere near it, your entire family will be banned from the Fair!’ His face was beet red. I think he was closer to having a heart attack than me.” Papa laughed.
“It’s not funny! What exactly did Julian do?”
The corners of Papa’s mouth remained curled upward. “The boy is curious. The two of them, Joe and Julian, were looking around. Julian wanted to see what would happen if he switched a certain lever. So, he pulled the lever down, an alarm went off, and I guess the Ferris Wheel froze. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” I shouted, quickly glancing to Miriam. Waking her was the last thing I needed. “Julian was responsible for frightening two thousand people half-to-death on the Ferris Wheel. Where is he now? Just wait until I get my hands on him.” I sprung out of my chair, fuming with my hands clenched.
“Tillie, calm yourself. He didn’t realize people would be scared. He didn’t even know the lever worked the Ferris Wheel. Besides, Abe returned just when the officer pulled him out of the building.” Papa reached for my arm, again pulling me down into the rocker.
“Where are they? I want a word with that boy.”
“Abe worked his charm on the officer and promised Julian wouldn’t leave his side for the rest of the week. Then I came back for a quiet lunch and afternoon. I’d had my fill of excitement for one day.” He paused. “I thought you should know and have time to calm down before they got back.”
I had a long road to travel before I calmed. Instead, I thought about a suitable punishment. “Perhaps we should have Julian push Miriam’s carriage around the rest of the week and make him think about controlling his curiosity rather than exploring the Fair with his hands.” I stopped for a moment. “What did Joe have to say? Weren’t both of you supposed to be watching out for Julian?”
“Joe turned his back for a second. I think the child has learned his lesson. Why don’t you enjoy the afternoon and talk to Abe later when he returns for dinner? Don’t forget, no one was hurt.” Papa paused. “You know, he’s probably a genius.”
I shook my head, “That’s just what the world needs. A reckless genius who puts two thousand lives at risk – to satisfy his curiosity.”
I sat back in the rocker and closed my eyes, trying to remember how excited I’d been an hour ago, leaving the Women’s Exhibit. My momentary calm had evaporated. All I could reclaim was a fleeting memory.