Orphan Train Disaster

by Rachel Wesson

  “You look surprised. You shouldn’t be. I’ve told you time and time again you are part of my family. I couldn’t leave you behind.”

  “I thought you meant as your sister?”

  He looked shocked this time. “Sister? Frieda Klunsberg, I no more see you as my sister than I do Anne Morgan. I love you, you daft woman. I want you to marry me, share my bed, have my children, and live the rest of our lives together.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do. And I sincerely hope you do, too, or otherwise I am going to look like a right idiot.”

  Patrick got down on one knee despite the slightly wet ground. Taking a box out of his pocket, he said “Frieda, will you please marry me?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Yes, yes of course, Yes.” She kept saying yes even as he was kissing her. He took her hand and slid a square cut emerald and diamond ring on her left ring finger.

  “Do you like it? I saw it and thought of your eyes.” He grinned before saying, “That sounded rather lame.”

  “Romantic.” She stretched to kiss him, pleased at her audacity.

  “I’m so happy, Frieda. You have no idea how many times I wanted to ask you, but the moment never seemed right. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”

  “I’d never have done that.”

  “Really? For a while I thought you hated me.”

  “Not you, Patrick, but I hated the thought of being your sister.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly.

  “Does that show you my intentions are far from brotherly?”

  Feeling flirtatious, she responded. “Maybe. But you might want to do it again, just to be sure.”

  He pulled her into his arms once more. A light went on in a bedroom above them causing Frieda to jump away, remembering where they were.

  Frieda opened the door, drawing Patrick inside. She put a finger over her mouth to tell him to be quiet, and together they tiptoed to the sitting room where Frieda hoped a fire would be lighting. It would be the perfect end to the evening to cozy up in front of the fire together. She pushed the door open only to walk in on Kathleen, Charlie, Lily, and Richard.

  “Oh.”

  “That’s all you can say, Patrick Green? After keeping us waiting this long? We thought we would have to send a search party out. So..?”

  Patrick put his arm around Frieda’s shoulders.

  “Mother, I love you, but once in a while could you let me do something on my own?”

  Everyone laughed and Kathleen flushed.

  “I just want you to be happy son, and I know the two of you were meant to be and….”

  “She said yes!”

  Lily and Kathleen both crowded around Frieda embracing her. Charlie and Richard shook Patrick’s hand. Then Richard clinked a glass.

  “I’d like to raise a glass to the most perfect daughter in law any man could expect.”

  Frieda blushed as Richard held out his hand to her. “Frieda, thank you for taking on our son. We know you will continue his training and help him behave suitably in public.”

  “Gee, thanks Dad. You make me sound like a household pet.” Patrick retorted. “You could at least wait until we’re married before you say things like that. She may run a mile.”

  “That could never happen.” Frieda said quietly as she moved to Patrick’s side. “I’ve loved you far too long.”

  “Have you guys started on the champagne already?” Patrick asked as he looked at the glasses in their hands.

  Richard clapped Patrick on the back, “Well son, you took your time and we were getting thirsty!”

  Soon Frieda and Patrick had a glass in their hands as well but Frieda didn’t need the alcohol. She looked around at the people closest to her. They had been her adoptive family since losing Hans and her father. She couldn’t imagine life without them.

  Chapter 47

  Leonie continued to lie in the bed not moving or showing any signs of coming out of the coma. Frieda had described her ring, knowing how much of a romantic Leonie was. She watched Leonie’s eyes carefully to see if there was even a flicker, but nothing.

  Disappointment flooded her as she headed home. She had a charity function to go to. How was she going to plaster a smile on her face and make small talk?

  Maria was sitting in the kitchen waiting for her. Cook and Carrie sat at the table as well. Carrie looked at Frieda’s face but didn’t ask how Leonie was. She had given up asking. Frieda walked over to the little girl and gave her a hug.

  Maria jumped up and hugged Frieda.

  “Frieda, congratulations. Carrie told me. Don’t scold her, she was so excited.” Maria hugged her before taking her hand. “Oh my goodness, can you ask him to buy me one too?”

  Frieda took off the ring to let Maria try it on. She watched as her friend twisted it around her finger three times.

  “What are you doing?”

  “When I was waiting for you, Cook gave me cookies and some advice. She told me to twist your ring three times around and make a wish. But I can’t wish to get married as that’s unlucky.”

  “So what did you wish for?”

  “A baby. Can’t have one of those unless you have a husband can you?” Maria gave the ring back.

  “Thank you for coming with me. It’s so good to see you smile.” Frieda gave Maria another hug, knowing talk of the engagement made her think of her sister. Not that Rosa was ever far from Maria’s mind.

  “When you first said you needed me at a fundraising function I wanted to run a mile. But Conrad reminded me , we are doing it for the families of girls like Rosa. I owe my sister and my friends. I won’t let them down.”

  “Of course you won’t.”

  “Frieda, I can’t wear this though and it’s my best dress.” Maria’s cheeks flushed as she stared at the floor.

  “Come this way, my friend. Lily already thought of that. Wait until you see what she picked out for you.”

  Maria picked up her skirt and followed Frieda up the stairs to her bedroom. There on the bed was a rose colored gown, nothing like anything Maria had ever seen before.

  “It’s yours. Lily thought it would look lovely with your coloring. Hurry up and try it on. One of the women can lend you a machine if you need to do any last minute alterations, but Lily is usually a good judge.”

  Maria fingered the material like it would bite her.

  “Maria, we have to be ready in two hours. Kathleen ordered Richard to collect us; Patrick is working. Richard doesn’t like Kathleen driving at night.”

  Maria got dressed in silence, her eyes fastened on her reflection.

  “See, it fits perfectly. Wait until Conrad sees you all dressed up like that,” Frieda said with a wink.

  “He won’t be there tonight.”

  “I know, but the dress is yours. Now try these shoes, Lily wasn’t sure which would go better.”

  Only once she was dressed did Maria revert back to her old self. “Frieda, what will you do about your exams? You had your heart set on qualifying, but if you are moving to London, what will happen? You can’t give up everything, not after fighting so hard.”

  “I won’t. Richard arranged to bring my exams forward. He believes that my extra shifts at the hospital, my exam results so far, and my experience with Lilian warrants me taking the finals early. I don’t know how he got Dr. Guild to agree, but he did. So I will take my finals in December.”

  “Good. I like Patrick a lot and I know how much you love him, but you can’t give up your career and settle down to domestic life. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “I couldn’t anyway. Patrick would starve if I had to feed him. Don’t fret Maria, I aim to practice as a doctor. I’ve my heart set on the Women’s hospital in London.”

  “I wish you weren’t going. I shall miss you.” Maria sniffed and then as if embarrassed by her weakness, she glanced out the window. “Is that Richard arriving? Come on, we can’t keep him waiting.”


  Chapter 48

  It was a trying evening with each girl being bombarded by endless questions about why the victims didn’t leave the building sooner, why they had crowded onto the fire escape, why they had waited for their wages, and many more silly questions people deemed important.

  Frieda and Maria made their way to the refreshments, both eager to escape all the questions. Furious, Maria almost exploded when they got to the less occupied side of the large room.

  “I know we have to be here to help raise money for the families, but seriously, how many times do you think someone will ask if the doors were locked, or whether the girls smoked while they were sewing? Some people seem to equate not speaking fluent English with being stupid.”

  “Maria, I think we should get you home. Lily and Kathleen will understand. You’ve done enough, and you’re still grieving, too.”

  “No, the last place I need to be is at home with Mama looking at me. She hates me for being the one who survived. She would have preferred Rosa.”

  “Maria, no she wouldn’t. She wanted both of you to survive. She is grieving for her daughter and her husband. She leans on you because you’re strong, the one she can count on. I know it’s hard, but please don’t think she doesn’t want to be around.”

  Maria didn’t argue. What was the point? Frieda didn’t live in her house, didn’t have to deal with Mama’s continuous comments about what a great daughter Rosa had been, how she was never any trouble, she hadn’t been on strike. By dying, her sister had turned into the perfect woman. Mama never mentioned Paulo Greco or Rosa’s involvement with him. It was as if all that hadn’t happened.

  Frieda squeezed her hand tight as they stood in silence. Two men and a lady ventured over to the buffet table, but mustn’t have seen them. They didn’t speak quietly.

  One of the men, well-dressed and in his early twenties, was practically shouting. “It’s all about money with these people. Did you see over ten thousand visitors to the morgue in two days? Either they all had huge families, which I understand is a thing with those Catholics, or they are grifters trying to claim more money. You know the Jews hoard money. Isn’t it bad enough they come over here? Why don’t they stay in Russia, Germany, or wherever else they come from?”

  Frieda and Maria exchanged a look. Maria was about to speak, but the lady accompanying the gentleman spoke first.

  “Did you hear the Red Cross had collected almost $5,000 when it opened the doors the Monday after the fire? With that imbecile Gaynor pledging his own money and making it appear as if it was the duty of every American to contribute, I would have expected them to have more in donations. I wonder how much each family is getting? How will they prove they had someone die in the fire?” The lady surveyed the table before picking up a sandwich.

  The older man put three sandwiches on his plate. “I heard all you need is an old photo. There are some boys selling pictures for that very purpose right outside the life insurance building.”

  “Frederick, as if these people need an excuse to beg more money. Handouts are all they were after.” The woman wiped her lips delicately. “They are the same people out on strike back in 1909. Always the same. Never happy with their lot.”

  Frieda stepped forward, her cold tone more forceful than a scream. “Never happy with being locked inside a burning building and getting burned to death? Or never happy with being forced to jump from a window nine floors off the sidewalk because the heat got too much for them? Or…” Frieda stood with her hands on her hips, lips flaring as she faced them down.

  “Now listen, lady.” The man they called Frederick, took a step toward her, but retreated fast enough when Frieda moved closer to him.

  “It’s Doctor, not lady, and you need to listen. Before you go spreading your cheap gossip. Do you know how much of that $5,000 was claimed on the Monday morning by the grieving families? I’ll tell you - not one cent. The first claimants didn’t arrive until Tuesday, and that was four people who weren’t there to claim money, but because someone told them they had to appear. The volunteers running the office went looking for the families. How did they find them? Not by photographs, as your ignorant comments suggest. They found those people who looked like they had lost their entire world. People like the Maltese family who lost all the women in their household in one afternoon. Do you think Mr. Maltese cares what money he gets when his wife and two daughters are lying in the morgue? At least, he thinks they are because he hasn’t yet been able to identify them! What is more --”

  The woman with the men gasped and fanned herself, as if the mention of burned victims was a surprise.

  Her escort took his friend’s arm before saying, “Young lady, I think that’s enough. You have forgotten yourself.”

  “No, Frederick, she hasn’t.” Anne Morgan appeared behind the man and his friends. Maria saw the man turn pale. “You and your friends stood in judgement, without knowing the facts of the manner. Frieda, a young doctor friend of mine, is correct. We had to go looking for victims. Most families do not have enough money to heat their homes or to put food on the table, never mind pay their rents, but they haven’t asked for a penny. They stare at the cold hearth and wonder why their daughters came all the way to America to burn. You ask why they came here? So they could build a life. Just as my ancestors did. And yours, too, unless you claim you are related to the Indians.”

  Muted giggles broke out as the insult hit home. Maria watched as Frederick’s neck turned red, his eyes casting around him as if looking for a way to escape.

  “Miss Morgan, I never thought to…”

  “You didn’t think at all, did you, Freddie? You never do.” Anne turned to a passing servant. “Humphrey, could you please find these guests their coats and escort them to the front door. They are leaving.”

  The lady huffed so much, Maria hoped her corset wasn’t too tight, or she would need Freida’s medical attention. She certainly recovered well from her fit of the vapors over the reference to bodies. “Well, I never! Just wait until your father hears about this, Anne Morgan.”

  “I think he will be rather amused, Betty Fitzpatrick, until I mention your disparaging comments about immigrants. My father is proud of his heritage and proud of America for offering him the opportunities it has. You know your family are immigrants, too? Although perhaps Wales is more to your liking than far off Germany or Russia or Italy.”

  Maria wanted to clap her hands at the way Anne had dealt with those horrible people. She’d been magnificent. Anne turned her attention to Frieda.

  “Frieda, I am so sorry they upset you so much. You were amazing. You are a credit to your family.” Anne turned to Maria. “Maria, isn’t it? Please accept my condolences for your loss. Lily told me about your sister.”

  “Thank you, Miss Morgan. You really put those people in their place.” Maria was glad her voice sounded firm when her legs were shaking.

  Anne rolled her eyes as she glanced toward her departing guests. “Unfortunately, you can’t cure ignorance with money. Sometimes, I believe it only serves to make those afflicted much worse. Still, we can’t worry about them. We have so much to do. As you said, Frieda, our efforts to help the victims of the tragedy aren’t making much headway.”

  “Miss Morgan, I wasn’t being critical,” Frieda explained.

  “I know that. I wish we could find a better way to help them. It is so frustrating.”

  Maria swallowed hard, “Miss Morgan, I have an idea.”

  “Go on.”

  Maria rubbed her hands on her dress, hardly daring to believe what she would suggest.

  “I wonder if it would be better if you appointed local people as your representatives. I mean, people the families would know from their own neighborhoods. With all due respect to your friends, no matter how well-meaning they are, it’s obvious they come from a different world. It would horrify Mama if someone like you arrived on her doorstep. Not that she wouldn’t be grateful, but it would embarrass her for you to see how we live.” Maria spoke quickl
y, hoping not to cause offense as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “She would also struggle to speak to you because her English isn’t fluent.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Maria. Perhaps you would come to our offices and help us find these people? Rose Schneider has said similar things and we all know how adamant she is about certain topics.”

  Maria smiled, she remembered Miss Schneider.

  “Please excuse me, I hear someone calling for me. If I want to wrest some money from their wallets, I must put in an appearance. Please call, Maria. You have great insights into a world you rightly say I don’t understand.”

  Maria stared after her.

  “You found yourself a new job, Maria. You could be a political leader.”

  “Me?” Maria burst out laughing. “Not a chance. I have about as much patience as you do, my friend. I thought you would throw that lady’s champagne into her face at one point. You really got hot under the collar.”

  “I got so angry. I guess if Anne hadn’t come along, I just might have lost my temper. I’m sick of people judging others, especially when they don’t have a clue what they are talking about. Sure, there are some who will make fraudulent claims, but if they want to look at those types of people, they should look closer to home.”

  Frieda glanced around the room. “How many people here have a clear conscience do you think? How many bribed an official to look the other way? How many own factories with insufficient fire escapes or have proper fire drills? How many greased the hands of those at Tammany hall?”

  Maria took Frieda’s drink out of her hand.

  “Come on, we’re leaving. Lily, Kathleen, and the rest of them can carry on the good work here. You need to get out before you upset someone.”

  Frieda didn’t argue as she followed Maria to say their goodbyes. She was too tired, angry, and sad to deal with anyone else asking her questions to which she had no answers. Why had so many died? Why were the doors locked, and who would pay? She glanced at the emerald ring on her finger and wondered if she had a right to so much happiness when so many had nothing.