Transcript of The Pickwick Club Disaster New

Hey weirdos, I'm Alayna. I'm Ash. And this is Morbid.

Yay!

And you know what's crazy? We don't have any business.

No business.

No real business. No.

And I sound more like a real person this time.

Yeah.

You know, somebody literally said, who narrated the last Morbid?

And the thing is, this is why you need to listen to the beginning of the episode.

Because I told you.

This is where we tell you if one of us is sick, we might sound a little weird or like, you know, whatever's going on.

I just love that somebody was like, who the fuck was that? It's like, I'm sorry.

Okay. I know.

I don't know what to tell you.

And I think somebody else was like, what happened to Ash's voice? And I was like, if you listen to the beginning, we said it.

Well, like, babes, only so many things can happen.

Yeah.

I don't know. Ursula visited me in the night and took it. Like what?

Just listen to the beginning.

I promise. Come on. It's just us chatting.

Chatting with you.

It's us trying to catch up with you.

That's all it is. Tell you what's going on. We're trying to connect. But that's all.

We won't connect this time because there's no business. I'm not sick.

No.

Anymore.

Just hot. The only thing I can say is get tickets to the live show while they're available. While they're hot. Radio City Music Hall, June 27th.

For some reason I keep saying like, get it while it's hot. And I keep thinking of the Sex and the City thing.

Get it while it's hot.

Hot. And it's one of the most cringy clips ever.

Because it's when she's dressed in the—

Like a Parisian.

And is she holding the—

The McDonald's, right?

McDonald's, right?

Yeah. Get it while it's hot. I don't know why it's been like my vocal stim lately.

I love that a lot. So get them while they're hot.

And picture us in Beret saying that.

Yeah, do that. And preorder The Witcher Legacy.

Yeah, get that while it's hot.

While it's hot. Do it. It's great. It's— I promise. That's my guarantee.

Is that it's great? Guaranteed great.

It's a great—

You should put that on the COVID Little period to the trilogy.

I like it. So, so go for it.

Not an ellipsis?

A period. Okay. To the trilogy. Okay. Didn't say to the series.

Okay.

Just to the trilogy.

All right. I see what you're doing.

It's its own little story.

I like that.

Yeah. All right. But that's it. So here we are, we're going to start. All right, today we're going to talk about, um, something that I think needs to be taught to more people. This thing that happened, especially people in Massachusetts, because like I didn't know about this and I was like, hi, born and raised, am I going to know about this? What? No, absolutely not. Okay, cuz like I don't think most people don't know. Yeah, because the other thing about this, we're talking about the Pickwick Club disaster. And there's also what I found out at the end was there's no plaque or memorial for this.

What the hell?

Yeah. So I think we need to like try to make that happen because I feel like it needs to happen. Yeah. A lot of people.

Because even you're saying that, I don't think I've heard of that.

And I think that's why a lot of people don't know about it is because there's nothing to show that it existed at all. That's really shitty. So we need to make that happen.

Yeah.

I love you, Boston. Let's do this. Let's do it.

Damn.

We'll try. For the Coconut Grove fire. Yeah, there is a memorial. Yeah.

And like, if you take a duck tour, they talk about the Coconut Grove, but I don't think they talk about the Pickwick.

We need one for the Pickwick. There was a lot of people who died in this and it was pretty rough.

Oh, no. Yeah. Again, I have not heard of this.

Yeah. So let's begin, shall we? Mm-hmm. On Beach Street in Boston's theater district. Theater. In 1924, Hyman Bloomberg found himself trying to sell off a now defunct Café Dreyfus.

What's a Café Dreyfus?

The fuck? So the Café Dreyfus was a club. It was like a place where you could gather in 1924. Okay. It was actually kind of like a speakeasy-ish kind of thing.

I love that.

In the '20s. And it had closed amidst like kind of skandal.

I love skandal.

And some legal issues.

I don't love legal issues.

Stuff going on. So after finding trouble getting anyone to bite at the building, a man named Timothy Barry expressed interest. He said, I want to rent the first floor of this place. And Barry told Bloomberg he and several of his investors were interested in opening a new social club.

Social club.

Social club. A club where you chat. Where you become social. And have a little drink. And they were only waiting on the city to approve their charter. Okay. So they wanted the building. And desperate for a tenant, Bloomberg wasn't in the position to turn anyone away, so he was like, hell yeah, you can take that space. Okay. Now, the Pickwick Club social club opened in April and occupied the first floor. Again, what had once been Café Dreyfus. It's unknown whether Hyman Bloomberg knew anything about his new tenant before he offered Barry the lease.

Oh, no.

But if he did, he probably wouldn't have been so eager. Oh. Perhaps. In 1924, Timothy Barry was, according to author John Keefe, known as, quote, a man who had many friends in Boston political, legal, and newspaper circles. In other words, he was a man of power, strongly suspected of having ties to organized crime. Oh, now, opening the business at the height of the Prohibition era, the Pickwick was officially a social club, quote unquote, because those were like official things. Okay. But in truth, It was really a speakeasy. Okay, like it was a speakeasy. Yeah, in fact, as a social club, the Pickwick, like by definition as a social club, was supposed to have strict rules for membership. That's what a social club had.

I'm obsessed.

But in reality, anyone could get in.

I love that.

As long as they knew what to say to the man at the door. Stop it. Which is a speakeasy.

I'm so obsessed with that. Have you ever been to a speakeasy? Yes, so much fun. It's just, it's got such a vibe.

That's the thing, like it feels dangerous. We're like not great for women and like not great for like many people. Not great. The vibe though. The esthetic. The esthetic, honey. That's all I say when I say I love the '20s. I don't want to be there. No. I want to visit.

I want us to like dress like we're in the '20s again and for places to look like we're in the '20s.

That's what I want.

But to have modern-day respect and understanding of community and culture.

I want what we— that's exactly what I want. I want what we thought the 2020s was gonna be. Remember when we all entered 2020 and we said, "It's the Roaring '20s!" You sent a shiver down my spine just now. And we all said, "I'm so excited. It's the Roaring '20s back again." Yeah. And then all of a sudden COVID was like, "Fuck y'all." Literally. I wanna do that. I wanna do the original thing that we wanted. It's like, "Roar it!" Because that sucked. Yeah. But yeah, the 1920s, the esthetic is just bar none. Chef's kiss. To me, the best. Like the dress, oh.

And the hairstyles.

The way men dressed in those days.

Oh my gosh, I know. I can't get over it. I love it. I don't love the makeup, I will say. Um, I don't hate it. I don't like the eyebrows.

The eyebrows leave something to be desired.

I really don't like the eyebrows.

But for someone with, um, really light eyebrows, like that are like sparse, I think I would do okay. All right. Because I really have to fill mine in.

You have good eyebrows.

So I feel like— thank you. I fill them in, but they look good. I wouldn't have to in the '20s.

That's true.

Just draw a line.

It's literally just a line, which is so easy, and it expands a lot of your forehead.

Hell yeah. Now, at first, the Pickwick garnered little attention from anyone outside of the neighborhood. Then in January 1925, the club appeared in the headlines for the first time when a police raid turned up dozens of cases of rum, whiskey, and gin hidden in the basement.

Yikes.

They arrested the bartender, Max Malmat, and shut the place down for a few days. But by early February, Max got off with a small fine and the Pickwick opened its doors for business again. Now, the Pickwick— and I feel like that probably gave it like a little bit of like a, like, yeah, dust off your shoulders. Exactly. It was like, oh, okay. The Pickwick Club wasn't that different from the countless other speakeasies in Boston at the time. But after having been raided and found to be serving alcohol, all of a sudden they jumped very quickly to the top of the Boston Police and Licensing Commission's list of establishments to keep a nice little eye on for that year.

But doesn't that guy have a little connection?

He does.

All right.

He sure does. Now, in fact, just hours after Max paid his fine at the courthouse, the Boston police arrived at the Pickwick to undertake another raid.

Oh, that's not cool.

That isn't cool.

He just paid.

Give him a second.

Yeah. Let him live.

This time, though, things would not go as smoothly as they had on the previous occasion. When they entered the club and announced themselves, The entire room erupted into chaos.

Oh my God.

By the time the whole thing came to an end, 9 men were arrested on charges of public drunkenness. And one man, 29-year-old William Fitzhenry, was arrested for assaulting an officer.

Damn. Of course William Fitzhenry was arrested for assaulting an officer.

William Fitzhenry stays assaulting a police officer.

Yeah. He's assaulting a police officer to this day.

He's so Boston.

Fitzhenry is the most fucking Irish name, Boston name I could ever hear.

Now, according to the Boston Globe, when the police, quote, dropped in unexpectedly at the club, there was considerable excitement. And that while the excitement was at its height, Fitzhenry struck the officer, knocking him down and almost rendering him unconscious.

Damn. If there's one thing Fitzhenry is going to do, it's knock your ass out.

That's one thing. Now, less than a month later, the Pickwick was back on the front pages when a group of drunk young men led police on a 2-mile car chase. Through Boston's narrow, winding streets until the pursuing officers managed to force the car off the road and take them into custody. They had all been drinking at the Pickwick prior to getting in the car. And a few days after that, police were called to the club, to the club, to the club, when a fight broke out.

They said, everybody in the club is fighting.

They are. Now, the police had been called by a nurse from the Haymarket Relief Station after she treated a man who told her he'd been stabbed in the leg during a brawl at the Pickwick.

Tim, the Pickwick is nuts.

The Pickwick goes crazy.

The Pickwick does not fuck around.

When the officers arrived at the Pickwick, they entered to find a room full of drunk and very belligerent— I don't know why this is so funny.

It just is because it's so fucking Boston. It's just so Boston.

Like, this part is funny because it's just chaos.

It's just everybody drinking.

Yeah, it's just pure, just chicanery.

I love it.

So they come in, they find a bunch of drunk, belligerent men who are in no mood to see, much less talk to the police. According to the police report, one of the officers told the men to beat it, but no one made an attempt to leave. They all just stared at them. They were like, fuck off.

You beat it, bitch. You beat it.

Why you in here? You beat it, cat. Frustrated, one of the officers attempted to arrest one of the drunk men, which is when the scene just exploded into what the press described as, quote, a small riot. In the Pickwick Club. Oh no. As one of the officers grappled with the drunk men, the other ran down the street to the nearest precinct for reinforcements, and the scene was brought into order a short time later.

Damn.

But with so many incidents in less than a year— Yeah. This is all less than a year.

That's the craziest thing.

The Pickwick had started to gain a reputation with the public.

I'd say so.

Maybe a little seedy.

Yeah.

Maybe a little, uh—

Tough spot.

Ill repute. You know, maybe, whatever, what have you. One reporter wrote, many people have regarded it as sort of an underworld social center. Obsessed. A place where bandits and their girlfriends might gather after the evening's work was over.

Sign me the fuck up.

I said, are you trying to keep people away?

Sign me up.

You might be inviting people.

Bandits and their girlfriends. Here's the thing, when I was like 12 years old, I literally wanted to be a mob wife. I used to watch Mob Wives and I said, someday I will grow up and be Drita Devanzo. Yeah. So back then. Oh yeah. Before my frontal lobe was developed.

Before your frontal lobe is developed and you realize what that entails.

Yeah, duh. But back then, oh, I would have loved this.

Yeah.

I would have been a bandit's girlfriend.

Now some of this reputation definitely came from the numerous times that the club's name had appeared in the papers with arrests and criminal activity. But at least a small portion of it was likely the result of the rumors of Timothy and Daniel Barry's connections to organized crime figures as well. Whatever the case, though, the reputation and the frequent visits from the BPD started to take a toll on the Pickwick's profits. And in March, Barry announced the club was going to be shutting its doors for good. Or nor. Now, the Pickwick Club did in fact shut down in March, but the entire closure kind of looks like it was like a little bit of theater.

Was it a ruse?

It looks like it was a little bit of theater. Oh, in the theater district as well? In the theater district, maybe to rehab the club's image and kind of like rebuff the attention of local law enforcement. Okay. Just a few weeks after the club supposedly closed for good, a new establishment, the Greenwich Village Club, opened in its place. Okay. With a large number of invitations going out to prominent members of the community. In reality, this was just a facade to hide the fact that the Pickwick Club had simply moved to the second floor and guests who appeared to be visiting the Greenwich Village Club were in fact going to the Pickwick Club.

I'm so obsessed with that.

Like, it's so shady. I love a ruse. Now, unfortunately for the patrons of the new Pickwick Club, the second floor of the building had no restrooms. So clubgoers had to either go to the first or third floor to go to the bathroom. Okay. And at some point in late March, a fire broke out at the tailor shop that was on the third floor. Oh no. The fire caused a lot of damage to the upper floors and required about 3,000 gallons of water to put out. Holy shit. Fortunately, the first and second floors of the building were relatively unharmed, so the Pickwick Club was able to remain open. Okay. That said, the firefighters had to chop large holes. I almost— because we're talking about Boston, I feel like my soul— large. I almost just said lodge holes. Lodge holes. But I I've curbed it for this podcast. Like, I feel like talking.

I know.

I've trained myself not to be like full.

But you can.

But this one feels like I'm like, chop large holes. You have to.

It's the ambiance.

It just feels right. The firefighters had to chop large holes. They just did. In various parts of the floor just to allow the water to drain properly into the basement. Okay. A few weeks later, Timothy Berry hired a carpenter to just patch over the holes so the club could reopen.

I feel like we could have done better than that.

Now, the Greenwich Village Club never reopened after the fire, and the tailor whose shop had started the fire had moved elsewhere, leaving the Pickwick Club the only business in the building in the summer, which is like, all right, let's go. Yeah. The next time the club appeared in the press, it was to be for far more shocking reasons than a small fire or a quote unquote small riot. Oh, no. Now, on the evening of July 4th, it was like July 3rd into July 4th, 1925, the Pickwick Club opened its doors for the Before the Fourth Dance. Okay. Being held that evening in celebration of, you guessed it, Independence Day. America's birthday. Yeah. Having America— having hired a 5-piece orchestra and freshly decorated for the occasion.

That doesn't sound seedy at all.

No, Barry expected a large crowd that evening, and once the evening got going, his expectations were exceeded. Okay, it was just to the gills, bustling. Now, that evening, 29-year-old May Lawson was out on a date with John Owen, and things were going well. Hell yeah. Uh, what John told reporters later was Mrs. Lawson had recently separated from her husband They hadn't been married very long and she was brokenhearted. And I knew she liked to dance and I urged her to accompany me to the club. Oh no. Now, John wasn't much of a dancer himself, so he had no objections when another man came over to the table and asked Mae to dance. He said, sure, you can dance. Oh, that's a— that's a man. That's nice. It was after midnight and the band had just begun playing 12th Street Rag, a song perfectly suited for the Charleston, which was the most popular dance.

I love the Charleston.

Everybody do the Charleston real quick.

Obsessed. Now, as the band roundup.

Couples from every corner of the room were going to the floor. The room was shaking with the enthusiasm of so many people jumping, moving, dancing, doing that— the same moves. So the same jumps, the same stomps, all at the same time.

No.

Uh, John Owen recalled later, it was pretty wild in there. Horns and rattles and firecrackers too. Firecrackers. People lighting and throwing them all night.

Inside? Yeah. You guys are right.

No, no. The lighthearted mood in the Pickwick that night was kind of uncommon for this place. Yeah. As I'm sure you can tell.

Because usually people are just like fighting.

Like this really like gregarious, just like enthusiastic, jaunty kind of mood. Since the first raid in January, there was always the potential for the police or some other city authority to come by anytime and break up a party. So things were generally fairly chill before this, but that night everyone was in good spirits. There was no sign of the police anywhere, and a raid was kind of like the furthest thing from anyone's mind. Finally, they were busy, you know, they were having fun. It sounds like it was a great time. Now, the party was scheduled to shut down at 4 AM. Damn, that's a party.

I was gonna say, Boston doesn't do that anymore.

No, they do not.

You get out of there at 1.

Yep. Now, so around 3:30 AM, the orchestra leader, Billy Glennon, which of course Billy Glennon.

So Boston. It's like, yeah, we all— I think I knew him.

Yeah, I was gonna say, I think I knew Billy Glennon.

Who doesn't?

Uh, he started looking through his sheet music for one last song to send everybody on their way. Nice. Um, he later said, I was just about to pick out the last piece we were going to play when Rocco yelled at me that the lights looked dim. I said, gee, yeah, they do. Then the porter said to me, look at the sand coming down from the ceiling.

Uh, what?

Glennon's brother Jimmy was the manager of the club. Of course, Jimmy Glennon was the manager. Yeah, duh. So Billy knew about the fire and how the firefighters had hacked holes into the floors to allow for drainage, and that since then the holes had been covered over with cheap trapdoors to allow for drainage of heavy rain. Okay. It had rained heavily in recent days, so Billy figured the dust and plaster drifting down from the ceiling must have been caused by the recent rains and the building was just resettling, you know.

Yeah, how great.

Billy Glennon went back to sifting through his sheet music. Then just a few seconds later, he heard an alarming sound shoot through the room. He later said, in a couple of seconds, there was a ripping, tearing noise, and I saw the ceiling start to fall in, and the wall on the left of— at the front of the room seemed to move.

What?

Then the lights went out. And there was a terrible crash.

Oh my God.

Now Cambridge cab driver Tom Garvey had arrived just before the collapse and was standing at the far side of the room waiting on a fare who had gone to get their coat from the coat check. He said, I looked over at the corner and I saw everyone jump up. I thought it was a fight at first, and all of a sudden there was a big noise and the lights went out. The next thing I knew, I was lying down with things pressing onto my back and sides.

Oh God.

He tried to get up, but he was pinned to the floor by something heavy. And his face was pressed into the floor, and he's like choking on dust and debris. What the fuck? He said, a lot of things went through my head. I could hear people fighting to get out when someone grabbed hold of me. Tom Garvey was close to the door, so it was easy for whoever grabbed him to pull him to safety, which like, thank goodness they did. But those stuck inside were in a much more dire situation. Uh, John Owen, who we talked about before, said a second after the collapse, the room was filled with shrieks. And the floor on one side started to give way, and the dancing couples were thrown into a gaping wound in the floor.

What the hell?

I turned around just in time to see Mrs. Lawson and her partner disappear through the floor. Oh my God. He made his way to where his date was, or had just been, but when he looked into the hole in the floor, he said all he saw was blackness. Just a black hole. He said he turned to crawl back to where he had just been, and he found there was nothing for him to hold on to as the floor beneath him started to crumble. Seconds later, he too was swallowed up by the cavernous hole.

What the hell is going on?

Having been in the Pickwick countless times before this, Billy Glennon knew the layout and was able to get himself and several others to the office near the back of the club. He said, I don't remember just how I got out through the office window or who went before me. Johnny Donovan, our drummer, got out all right, and so did Frank Mulvey, the piano player. Outside, he looked around for his brother Jimmy and the rest of the band, but he couldn't see any of them anywhere. Then, to his absolute horror, he said he looked back at the disaster where he just escaped from, and the entire building collapsed on itself. Oh my God. He said after the thing went down, there was absolute silence. That was one of the darnedest things about it. No yelling or anything after the place settled. We knew there must be a lot of people in there, but none of them let out a yip. It was just as still as if the place was shut up.

That's a nightmare.

Isn't that bone-chilling?

That's a nightmare.

At a certain point, the stories of the survivors all kind of sound similar. Like, one person watches in horror as their date, their friend, or a stranger who had just been sitting next to them loses their balance and disappears into the dark cavernous hole in the floor. Eddie Whalen watched helplessly as his friend John McLaughlin slid into the hole in the floor. The same was true for Frank and Virginia Vera. The couple had just been in the hall when this floor started to give way. Virginia managed to make it to the front door unharmed, but when she turned back to grab her husband, Frank was gone. Oh, Virginia Vera was very likely the last person to make it out through the front door when the building came down.

Wow.

Now, in the darkness of the wreckage on the first floor, it took some time But eventually John Owen regained his senses and came out of the daze that followed the fall. He said, "5 minutes went by, which seemed like hours to me, when finally the police rescued me and I was taken to safety with the cries of injured and screams for help coming from all corners." Now, being in the heart of the city, it didn't take long for emergency responders to arrive at the scene.

That's good.

Seconds after the collapse began, the doorman, Rocco Scarpato, ran out into the street and started shouting for help before running back inside to help get others out. Rocco was in the building when the floor gave way and suffered a minor injury to his knee, but his yelling in the street prompted a local beat officer to trigger the alarm box on Mason Street, which drew the men from the local firehouse to come.

That was good.

When the building came down, there was roughly 100 or so people in the Pickwick. Oh my God. By the time rescue crews came, about half of those inside had made it out. But many, many more remain trapped in the rubble with 4 stories of building on top of them.

Now, that is unthinkable.

The men work quickly to reach the injured, who they located now from the screams that were finally happening beneath the debris. The sound of those trapped beneath the rubble was among the most troubling aspects of, of the scene, according to everybody who talked about it later. I'm sure. Survival Ethel Conlon said, I couldn't get them out of my mind for days. They were just awful.

The PTSD that you would suffer after something like that.

I can't even imagine. No. It took nearly 100 men hours of digging in near pitch dark conditions, but finally the first bodies, 4 men and 2 women, were found in a pocket in the corner of the building. A short time later, Boston Mayor James Curley arrived at the scene and, seeing the catastrophe, sent a request for 100 more firefighters. Now, at the time of the collapse, rescue workers were limited in terms of the equipment available to really help recover survivors. Right. Although motorized vehicles did exist, few, if any, were strong enough to handle the incredible weight of 4 stories of trapped debris and 50 people underneath it.

Right.

Instead, workers had to move slowly and methodically through the wreckage looking for survivors. And when they found one, they had to remove whatever debris they could by hand and try to pull the individual out. Larry Doyle of ladder 8 had been working for about half an hour when he came upon a resti ciba. He was alive but pinned beneath two giant timbers that left no room for Doyle to get a hold of him. Instead, Doyle tied a rope around his waist and attempted to pull him out, but immediately after he started pulling, uh, ciba cried out, "Stop! You're tearing me apart! You're going to kill me!" Oh my God. He stopped and he tried to kind of like zhush him a little bit. And with no other ways of getting him out of here, he waited a few seconds and then he gave the rope one more yank and ultimately he did free him. Okay, good. But the timbers did allow for him to like scooze him out kind of thing.

Like, just like, like shimmy.

And he didn't get torn in half.

No. He probably had so many broken bones. That's probably why he felt like that.

Exactly. And it was probably like actually pulling him apart at that point. So after he had saved Chiba, he— Doyle climbed back into the debris and began feeling his way through looking for survivors. And after a few minutes, his hand fell upon what felt like a woman's leg, and he called out to her, but he got no response. A few minutes later, he'd removed enough debris to get up beside her, which is when he realized the woman was dead. And he said this woman's spine was snapped backwards at a 90-degree angle.

Oh my God. Yeah.

Which I can't imagine.

I can't even picture that.

After more than an hour digging around, an hour digging around, looking like through the rubble for survivors.

In the darkness.

Yeah. Larry Doyle had breathed in an incredible amount of dust and debris and he was having trouble breathing, but he insisted there were more people trapped inside and he was ready to go back in. It was only after he collapsed from exhaustion and respiratory trouble that he finally agreed to be seen by a doctor at the nearest hospital. And even then, it took 4 other firefighters to keep him from going back into the wreck after they let him out.

What a hero.

Yeah. Larry Doyle. For real. Now, given the size and scope of the disaster, the rescue operation quickly turned into what the press called a, quote, all helpers volunteer event, meaning anyone with expertise was encouraged to come out and lend a hand. While most who pitched in were emergency responders, city workers, construction crews. There was also a lot of doctors, nurses, and paramedics that came to the site as first responders. In one case, Dr. Michael Garrity of Boston City Hospital crawled down to a man who was trapped under the rubble as a result of his finger being hopelessly stuck between two pieces of concrete. Oh my God, this is insane. After applying a local anesthetic, Dr. Garrity was able to amputate his finger and the man was pulled to safety and taken to the hospital. You got to be kidding me. Dr. Garrity crawled into the rubble and safely performed an amputation.

That's next level.

In 1925.

In total darkness.

In total darkness.

That's next fucking level. That's incredible to me. That's a fucking doctor.

Other doctors from the city hospital were at the scene performing similar rescues in near darkness. All while several hundred or even thousands of pounds of precarious rubble ominously cracked and groaned around them. And they're performing amputations to save people. That's incredible. Now, eventually the cries and pleas from the injured started to quiet until finally they couldn't be heard at all. By the time the sun came up, there were still at least 50 people reported missing. But the consensus belief was that if they were still in the rubble, they probably wouldn't be found alive. Oh, that morning, the first report of the collapse went out on the front page of the Boston Daily Globe, announcing 12 confirmed dead. But by the time the rescue operation was complete, the death toll rose to 44. Wow. With countless others injured. Now, when news of the accident started spreading around the city, some people showed up to volunteer or offer support, like Reverend Lawrence Morris from St. James Church arrived at the site to provide last rites to the victims, while others brought food and other essentials to help volunteers. There were many others, however, who simply showed up to the scene to take a look.

That's so gross. Uh, the work of digging out the ruins went on for several days, and by the second day, thousands have had come to see the scene, some in hopes of finding a missing relative, of course, but most just to see the wreckage. Lucky lose. Yeah. Now, according to the press quote, there was no disorder, no wild attempts to break the police line, no noise. That's good. Somehow the crowds even forbore to push and elbow each other to get a better point of vantage. So they were at least like chill. Yeah. Now they were just there to take in the tragedy of an unimaginable thing that had happened.

I don't know why you would want to see that.

When asked for comment about the crowds, one officer tasked with guarding the site said if they had to do this for pay, they'd wish they were somewhere else. They can't see anything and they are far too far away to even hear what's going on. So he's like, get the fuck out. He's like, what's the point? Now, before the first day was even over, serious questions of accountability were being raised by those in positions of power.

Yeah.

Building Commissioner John Mahoney had long lamented the crumbling buildings in Boston and suspected that might be the cause.

I would think that would be at least part of it.

Mayor James Curley, on the other hand, blamed the collapse on overcrowding. In a public— in a statement to the public, he said, considering the fact that no official with authority to prevent overcrowding was present in the building, it is most probable that the club management, taking advantage of the night before crowds seeking unrestrained freedom in their pursuit of pleasure, readily accepted all who came to the club after the closing of the property-licensed amusement places in Boston. Now, at the time, It would have been impossible for the mayor or anyone else to make such a definitive statement on the cause of the accident since an investigation into the cause had not even begun.

Yeah, so everybody was just kind of guessing.

But his statements— James Curley's statements— reflect the widespread, very conservative perspective in Boston that viewed nightclubs, dance halls, and other similar spaces as contributing to immorality. Now, the following day, The Globe offered a different perspective and potential cause of the collapse, this time from someone who was inside the building when it came down. According to Frank Decker, one of the singers performing in the club that night, it was, quote, the steady swaying of the dancers and their stamping of feet. As they all performed the Charleston, that could have caused the collapse. He said, imagine the force of 50 couples leaping up and down in unison. The heavy trampling set the floor swaying, then it cracked. I paid no attention to this sharp crack at the moment, as I thought someone had set off a firecracker, but the real meaning of it came to me a moment later. Now, in retrospect, Frank Decker's theory that dancing had caused the collapse might seem like kind of silly, since most buildings are designed to withstand a far greater shock than, of course, a few dozen people dancing.

But what we know now, that there was like trapdoors and that kind of thing.

That's the thing. At the time, it seemed intuitive to Bostonians following the story in the press and remained a popular urban legend long after the real cause had been revealed that it was dancing the Charleston that caused this collapse.

Oh no. So now the Charleston was cursed?

Yeah, it was cursed. Now, during one of the trials that followed the incident, one of the structural engineers tasked with evaluating the building testified and said, as the steady pounding of feet continued, the wooden joists under the linoleum floor began to vibrate. Structural engineers use the term mechanical resonance to describe what was happening. Under certain conditions, a suspended beam or crossmember will vibrate violently when, when subjected to steady rhythmic oscillations. Those vibrations have been known to cause catastrophic failures in bridges, buildings, and even airplanes. The Pickwick Club dancers knew nothing about resonance. They had no idea what was going on under their feet. Of course, before anyone could arrive at the accurate— at an accurate explanation for why the building collapsed, city workers needed to clear away the rubble, which proved more challenging than expected. In addition to the expected difficulties of moving, you know, several tons of debris, the large crowd surrounding the area was like a big challenge. Yeah. And while most of them were orderly and complied with police directions, others were less respectful.

People are always going to people.

This is gonna enrage you. On July 6th, just days after the collapse, police arrested one of the workers, Angelo Cook, after he was seen stealing cash from the pockets of the few remaining dead bodies in the ruins.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

He's going to dead people's wallets, pockets, and stealing their money.

That's a piece of shit. There's this special place in hell.

Lowest type of low.

Yeah, that's the karmic retribution on that.

That it will, it will reverberate through generations of his family. Wow. Truly, like, fuck that. Wow. On July 7th, the majority of the ruins had been cleared from the scene and the last of the bodies had been removed. To go to the morgue for identification. Meanwhile, across the city, a grand jury was being convened to hear testimony and evaluate the evidence. That afternoon, after hearing some survivor testimony, District Attorney Thomas O'Brien— no, led the guard— there was going to be an O'Brien.

There's got to be.

Uh, he led the grand jury to the site so they could see the space for themselves and view the foundation of the building. By that time, structural engineers had begun evaluating the building and suspected the collapse had not been caused by dancers, but by a structural issue with the party wall. And I'll tell you what a party wall is. Okay. It's basically the shared wall between the building that housed the Pickwick and the building next to it. Oh. Now, in the era when the Dreyfus was built, buildings were often built to lean against one another as a source of stability. They were very close to each other. And that shared wall was the party wall between them.

So it's almost like a condo or like a duplex.

Yeah, it was just like They were just almost like a condo, except it's not all the same building. There's buildings that are so close to each other, they lean on each other for support. That's wild. Yeah. Now, in this case, the building next to the Pickwick had recently been torn down. Oh. Thus removing a potentially significant source of support in the party wall. Stop. Based on their initial observations, the engineers suspected that that could have been the reason for the collapse.

Yeah.

Testifying before the grand jury, Harry Haven, one of the engineers in charge of the project to be built next to the Pickwick, said there were concerns about the structural integrity, integrity of the Pickwick building itself, and that those concerns had been shared with the property owners, but nothing had been done about it. Mm-hmm. Now, after several days of testimony and evidence, the grand jury indicted 6 individuals in the Pickwick case. The following were indicted on charges of manslaughter. Timothy Barry, the owner of the club, George Funk, the architect in charge of the building's repair project following the fire, and Hyman Bloomberg, the owner of the building. 3 others associated with the Pickwick Club were indicted on, like, lesser charges. Fair enough to me. Now, a few days later, the grand jury reconvened and returned 6 more indictments for manslaughter against the architects involved in the restoration and construction projects, including Fritz Nathan, John Pultz, John Tobin, Edward Romer, James Hendrick, and Lawrence Perkins. All 9 men pleaded not guilty, and their trials were scheduled for the following, uh, following months.

Okay.

Now, given the high-profile nature of the Pickwick case, everyone from the district attorney to the mayor urged a speedy trial for those accused of manslaughter, if for no other reason than to demonstrate that the city took the matter of unstable infrastructure very seriously.

Yeah.

Now, just one week after the grand jury returned indictments for the accused, the trial against all 12 of the men began at Suffolk County Superior Court. The first to testify was Chief of Police Daniel Sennett, who, among several other individuals who testified, they were testifying to the level of destruction caused by the fire that had occurred on the third floor several months earlier.

Okay.

The consensus among those who spoke on the effect of the fire was that while the third floor had been, quote, very badly burned, the building itself remained structurally sound. Okay.

Now, according to— It's kind of hard to—

It is. Like to— I don't know. To feel comfortable with that.

Yeah, yeah, exactly.

Thank you. Now, according to Guy Amerson, the expert for the prosecution, he said the collapse of the Pickwick Club was due to a failure of the concrete piers under the foundation. Due to a lack of lateral bracing on the easterly side. Now, after the building beside the Pickwick was torn down, effectively making the party wall useless, Bloomberg hired a construction firm to add to the concrete piers to provide structural support.

Okay, the party wall was going to be weak, but also you probably should have closed down the club before, like, while that was gonna happen.

Well, also, the piers were very poorly built and weren't capable of supporting the 100,000 pounds that they were required to support.

So that useless.

According to one of the evaluating engineers, one of the piers was, quote, the rottenest piece of concrete I ever saw. There were pockets of gravel in the mixture. The cement was of poor quality and there wasn't enough of it. The shoddy craftsmanship of the piers creating the perfect conditions for a kind of, quote, domino-like collapse under the right circumstances. Now, that's what's crazy about this is it's like this somewhat strange twist where it turned out that it wasn't one single theory. That was correct.

A lot of them.

Several were kind of working in combination with each other, right? The concrete piers had been poorly made and unprofessionally installed, so when the music and the dancing reached its peak, it caused the pockets into which the piers had been placed to crumble and the piers to fall. Without the support from the concrete piers, the building simply collapsed into itself, unable to withstand the weight.

Just picturing that is like so— the scariest thing, just like a building swallowing itself.

Truly.

It's like when you see videos of, like, sinkholes.

Yeah.

Oh, sinkholes freak me out.

So scary. I hate it. Now, given the number of things that had to go wrong in order for the Pickwick Club to collapse, the jury was unable to agree that any of the men on trial were directly responsible for the tragedy and all were found not guilty.

Hmm.

It's because there was so many things that contributed to this. I think they didn't know who actually was at fault here. Yeah.

I'm like, maybe we can just say that everybody was then.

Now, after the verdicts were read, Judge Loomis addressed the jury. He said, if I had been a member of the jury, I would have joined in your verdict. There never was sufficient evidence that these defendants had been willfully, recklessly, or wantonly negligent.

Okay.

Now, the acquittal of all 12 men was definitely a disappointment to the victims' families.

Yeah.

Just hope to see someone responsible for the loss of the lives at the club that night.

Right.

In the years that followed, a number of civil suits were filed. In total $6.1 million, which is roughly $90 million in 2026. Wow. But the plaintiffs eventually settled for around $40,000 or $1,000 per life lost at the Pickwick Club.

I feel like that happens too often.

It does. Now, in the years that followed, the building was eventually repaired and reopened. Oh. From the 1960s into the late 1980s, the building was home to the famous Naked Eye Cabaret. Oh, until it was torn down and a parking garage was built on the site. It still remains— not a parking garage. Um, as of now, there is no plaque or memorial to indicate the 44 people whose lives were lost that night.

That's such bullshit.

And again, few people remember or are aware that this actually happened.

Well, the fact that it just became— I don't— me either. And the fact that it just became a parking garage.

Yeah.

I just feel like more should have been done to protect the site.

Yeah, you know, and let me just— now that we're at the end of this, I'm gonna read the 44 people's names. Uh, Benjamin Alexander, Ella Calley, Bert Chapman, William Cochran, Ralph Congdon, Michael Cefalo, Charles DeCostas, Francis Driscoll, Pauline DeLuca, Gelato Lombardi, Wayne Marr, Mary McEachern, Lillian McIsaacs, John McLaughlin, Francis McLean, Thomas McManus, Mary Moore, Max Malmott, John Duffy, Mabel Dixon, Edward Flanagan, Clara Frederick, Patrick Galvin, James Glennon, Arthur Graham, William Grossman, Paul Halloran, Stuart Henderson, Edith Jordan, Loretta Keegan, Peggy Lawson, Margaret Murphy, John Murphy, William Murray, James Murray, Bart O'Donnell, Carl Posslin Jr., Joseph Faniff, John Scales, Doris Stern, Frank Tilo, Frank Vera, Charles Whalen, and Esther Wilson.

So sad that that many people lost their lives. That, like, yeah, it's just, it's really getting to me that there's no memorial. That's nuts.

And these, these are all like ranging from age 20 to We have a 43-year-old, we have a 42-year-old, everything in between. Yeah, I think it's like 43. It's like ages 20 to 43, everything in between. That's crazy. Yeah, a lot of 30-year-olds, a lot of, you know, like people just having fun.

Yeah, just young people.

Like, it sucks. They weren't doing anything wrong.

They were just celebrating a holiday.

Yeah. It's really sad. And I really hate that it doesn't have a plaque. I think that, that That parking garage needs to have a plaque.

I think we should write to Mara Healy.

I was like, we— I was looking up how to petition to do this, and I think we are going to try to petition to do this. I just think it's right. I do too. And I don't like that I didn't know that this was a thing.

Yeah, we should learn about this in school because you— I mean, you do learn about the Coconut Grove and like the molasses flood, you know, like you should learn about these things.

Like, people lost their lives in this stuff. We should know about it. Absolutely. Especially you're just parking in a garage. You don't know that like underneath was the site of a horrific tragedy.

I really do feel like it should be something else.

We're going to see what we can do to petition.

Yeah, we're going to try to talk to Mara.

We're going to get some signatures.

Yeah, let's go. Maybe we can start something up. We'll get some information gathered and hopefully update you next episode.

Yeah, we'll let you guys know how it's going. That's our new thing right now. We're going to do this.

Yeah, we're planning a live show and we're planning a memorial.

Exactly. So. I like it.

Fun fact, Play-Doh was originally used as wallpaper cleaner.

Huh. Yeah. You just rub it all over your wall?

I guess so.

Does it still work?

I don't know.

I wonder.

Let's look a little more into this.

That's an interesting one.

Play-Doh wallpaper cleaner. It was originally invented as wallpaper cleaner in the 1930s. Kutol Products in Cincinnati, Ohio created a pliable, non-toxic putty used to lift coal soot off of wallpaper. When Holmes switched to cleaner heating after World War II, the company repurposed the cleaner as a toy, which became Play-Doh. Wow. Isn't that fun?

Damn, that's cool.

So it was like an accidental toy.

Look at Play-Doh. I love accidental inventions. I do too.

Remember eating Play-Doh when you were little?

Eating Play-Doh?

It was so salty.

Oh yeah, I did.

I remember. Everybody ate Play-Doh.

Yeah. And I just remember the smell really.

Oh, I can smell it like right now.

Because like the kids have Play-Doh. Yeah. So I can still smell it.

Play-Doh? That's crazy because I mean, it was after World War II that they switched and made it a toy and our kids are still still playing with it.

Still playing with Play-Doh.

Like, that's nuts.

And it's so simple. Yeah, see, it's the simplest stuff.

It really is.

High-tech bullshit.

Oh, and I love when you got like the Play-Doh sets where you can like make it like noodles.

Yeah, it's like spaghetti.

I love smushing it through something. Let's go play with Play-Doh right now.

Let's do that.

All right, well, um, we hope you keep listening and we hope you keep it weird, but not so weird that you don't go buy some Play-Doh right now and smush it.

Yeah.

Yeah, just don't eat it anymore because you like—

I don't think you're supposed to. I'm sure it's not—

it's probably fine, but like, I don't know.