The Great Fire of 1894
Small fires had been burning over much of central Pine County throughout the summer of 1894. The weather was especially hot and dry that year. Temperature soared to over 90 degrees, and rivers and creeks were reduced to the merest trickle in some places. Fires were often sparked by trains or started by farmers clearing land. These found ready fuel in dried out vegetation and in the “slash” left by the loggers, who cut down the pine trees only to leave branches and leaves in a tangle on the forest floor. Usually these small fires were brought under control by firemen and concerned citizens or burned out by themselves, but on September 1, conditions combined to create one of the most terrifying forest fires in the history of the United States.
The day dawned hot and dry. Smoke hung in the air from the dozens of little fires burning around the area. The people of Hinckley, Sandstone, and other small Pine County towns certainly complained about the heat as they began their daily work, but they had no idea that by evening their lives would be turned upside down. No one knows for sure how the fire or fires got started, but by afternoon a massive firestorm was approaching Hinckley from the south. The very air and clouds seemed to be on fire as the day turned black and red. Some terrified residents described a tornado of fire bearing down on the town. Buildings burst into flame. People burst into flame as they ran from their homes and businesses.
At the Eastern Minnesota railroad depot, engineer William Best waited nervously but bravely while as many Hinckley residents as possible boarded his train. He had coupled his engine and cars to another train to provide more space. The other engineer pleaded with Best to depart, but Best held fast to the air brake as long as he could before the situation finally became too dangerous. Since both trains were facing south and could not reach the already-burning roundhouse to turn around, when Best finally released the brake, the two trains slowly began backing up away from the fire and towards Duluth. The train backed toward Sandstone, about seven miles to the north. It stopped briefly in that village, and passengers frantically warned Sandstone's residents of the coming danger and urged them to take the train to safety. Tragically, not one villager accepted the invitation. The train resumed its backward journey, but by the time it reached the high bridge over the Kettle River just outside Sandstone, the bridge was already on fire. The structure was hardly safe on the best of days, and a speed limit of four miles per hour was strictly observed. Best decided to take one more chance and started across the burning bridge. He made it to the other side just in time. The train had barely reached solid ground before the bridge collapsed into the Kettle River. The train proceeded through the smoke and fire until it reached safety in Duluth where survivors were offered food, shelter, medical attention, and other necessities by the city's residents.
As the combined Eastern Minnesota train was making its way north, another train began its journey out of Hinckley. This train, engineered by James Root, departed from the St. Paul and Duluth depot and also tried to head north. It did not get very far, only seven miles in fact, before the train itself was on fire. Unable to go further, Root stopped his train near “Skunk Lake,” which was little more than a shallow puddle due to the drought. Passengers, some already seriously burned, hurried off the train and into the water, hunching down and throwing wet clothes over their heads. Sixty men, women, and children managed to survive.
Only a few hundred feet from Skunk Lake, the Samuelson family and many of their friends and neighbors huddled together in a root cellar. They had gathered together in a festive mood that day to celebrate the wedding of Minnie Samuelson and John DeRosier. The ceremony was just about to start when the firestorm made its way toward the Samuelson farm. Chaos ensued. People were running and screaming. Their happy day had turned into a nightmare. Then someone remembered the root cellar. It seemed like their only hope as the walls of flame drew near at a frantic pace. The family and their guests plunged inside...and then realized that perhaps they had made a horrible mistake. The air inside the cellar grew hotter and hotter as the flames approached. The door in front of them began to smolder. How would they ever survive? Perhaps someone bumped into or knocked over one of the cans of milk stored in the cellar. In any case, occupants were soon dowsing themselves and the burning door with milk. The stench must have been tremendous, but every person in the Samuelson root cellar survived. Minnie and John were finally married a few days later in Duluth.
Meanwhile, in Sandstone, Erick and Christine Troolin were going about their daily chores, probably aided by several of their children. Had they heard of the horrors to the south as the Eastern Minnesota train passed through town? Perhaps, like many other Sandstone residents, they did not believe that the fire would come their way. They would soon learn differently. After leaving Hinckley in ruins, the firestorm roared toward Sandstone. Horrified villagers soon realized how very wrong they were to turn down their one chance of escape. Some, like the Troolins, dashed down the steep paths into the Sandstone quarry and plunged into the Kettle River as the flames raged around them and temperatures soared to over a hundred degrees. They drenched themselves as best they could. Other residents tried to escape the fire by hopping into wells. A few survived, but many, including one whole family, suffocated as the fire literally sucked all the oxygen out of the air. The fire soon passed to the north to wage further destruction, and Sandstone's survivors, some horribly burned, spent a long, agonizing night by the river where the stones were still too hot to touch.
Before the firestorm of September 1, 1894, burned itself out, several Pine County towns had been completely destroyed, more than 400 people had lost their lives, and hundreds of others were injured and homeless. Survivors were left to mourn their lost loved ones, survey the barren waste where their homes and businesses once stood, and soon courageously begin the process of rebuilding.
[Note: Erick and Christine Troolin were my great-great-grandparents. Minnie Samuelson DeRosier was my great-great-aunt. Her sister, Crissie, who was nine years old in 1894, was also in the root cellar along with their parents, John and Hattie Samuelson. In 1905, Crissie married Hans Troolin, who had ridden out the fire with the rest of his family in the Kettle River.]
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