The Birmingham age-herald., 1922-01-30

1t was merely first aid station for those taken chrushed, but alive, rom the wreckRge. They were car ried on stretchers over the slippery pavement with lines of soldiers keep ing the crowds far back. Doctors and nurses and women eager to bring their sympathy and cheer to the suf- fering or bereaved, waited in the church. They tenderiy washed away the gray dust of the crumpled con erete, the Krime and caked blood, llackened Homtimes by hours of wait ing pinned under the debris until the rescurers cut the victim loose. Ban dages were applied and then the in- jured were whisked away to hos pital or home.
 Dead LIe In Double Rows
 But the dead lay long in the double rows in which they stretched across the floor, lay until fearful relative or friend, & husband or wife or father or mother, recognized the crushed form at last. Up and down these isles of the dead walked those whose fears had drawn them here because of someone missing in the family circle. Women already weeping In certainty of what they must find sooner or later beneath the kindly blankets that shielded the Hleepers, made the journey of sorrow many times before they found what they sought Men with working races leaned to draw back the coverings end then gasp with short lived re- lief as they moved on to the next huddled form.
 Some of these seekers came with dirt and rrime of the wreckage upon them still. Some had passed through the crash of roof and balcony only 10 leave a dear one dead in the tan nled mass They had worked hours with the rescuers to find that one only to turn now and then for hur- ried trip to the chamber Of death.
 Eleven times death struck down husband and wife. side by side. They died as they had sat to see the swift picturing of the film But many other times 1t was only the wife or the husband who perished and the sur vivor must make the terrible pill grimage of recognition in the grim chamber of the dead.
 Few Child Victims
 The times when children were taken were sparingly few. Usually the big theatre was in its earlier hours of Saturday night the gathering place of a host of youngsters come with their parents for the weeks amuse- ment. But the storm that wrecked the Knickerbocker kept most of the little folk at home that night.
 Up thu fvns pe.tss- trUuorn~ <hrough heavy snow, that ran from the inl- promptu morgue to the Knicker- locker. struggled the stretcher squads. army and navy men mostly. services held the doors of the church xuffh axntfaita genfla- ness and sympathy slfted out those who sought their dead from others drawn by morbid curiosity.
 Above all there was quietness at the church in spite of the urgent and never teasing activity. The losers in the Knickebocker disaster, neither the phsically hurt nor the bereaved gave voice to their suffering. and 1t was the testimony of the first who reached the theatre that the outcry there In the ruins was little and soon sti1led.
 Die Before Aid Arrives
 Some of the dead were alive when rescue work began, but died before the saving hands could reach them. one girl child. pinned under a beam. died with both hands in those of an army officer. who was directing her release. One man, pinned beside his dead wife, was freed from pain with g hypodermic needle and survived the long night to q safe removal
 A moment after the collpase, Father John rloersch. priest of a narby church. entered the ruined theatre. knee deep in the snow that covered all for the benefit of the dying around him. he gave general absolu- ton and the final rites of the church to the dying. Then he plunged into the rescue work.
 Notable was the speed of the Red Cross organization whose local chap ters forced their way to the theatre site across city whose normal trans portation lines had paralyzed in the snow and set up cantons for the