The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1924-02-25

ana the still heavier rain that
trudged thru slush, icy and
deep, arriving drenched and
half frozen and exhausted at
the tenement where the trag-
edy occurred. Police and fire
inspectors before the door of
the building refused to let any
one pass. So, they decided to
visit the people who lived in
the houses to each side of the
burned building.
Living In Wretchcdness.
At 800 Madison St. they went up
one fight of dark stairs, wooden
and rotted with age, and knocked
at a door. Here, the door opened
upon a kitchen where the sick and
well were huddled together in
wretchedness. A woman, moaning
with sciatica, sat on a chair beside
couch where sick man lay asleep
covered with the few poor rags that
were not sufficient to keep him warm
A daughter, the only one able to
do anything in the house, moved
about the room. The father, out OF
work, came in from another room
that looked like a cupboard.
They paid $50 month rent for
these wretched rooms. There were
no bathing facilities and the out
house was downstairs under the
stairs adjacent to a junkshop. They
confessed it was mental agony to
them to use the place. But they
seemed eager to stay there. They
wouldn't kick to the landlord be-
cause they said 'If we ask for any
thing, the landlord will ask US to
move and where will we go? They
will get more for these rooms than
we pay and we will have to pay
more wherever we go. Some places
they won't take us at all. because
they are afraid to let in sick people
who may not always have the rent"
The girl talked. There were no
tears. Her eyes were dry. But in
her voice there was heartbreak.
"Don't say anything to the land
lord" she pleaded, 1--WE cant move,
/ SICK as we are.
When the little family was told
that working class women were GO
ing to go out in a great demonstra-
ton to force the administration to
start the building Of homes for the
workers that will be rented at cost,
they were eager and offered to
march.
Living In Firetraps."
The house at 395 Madison st. was
five stories and basement. The fire
inspectors, after the horrible trag-
edy next door, came in to inspect
this building. They told the tenants
that they were living in fre-trap.
But the tenants knew that nothing
will be done to interfere with the
profits of the landlords. They ex-
pect no changes in the wooden tin
der box they call home. Rot and
dampness and rats are the dominant
note in this profitable hovel--profit-
able to the landlords Four families
to floor, five floors, twenty fam
flies. Rooms that brought from SO
to $40 a month now bring from SIS
to S24, and if the present tenants
should move there will be more to
paw bv those who come after them.
A kitchen and a front room and two
blind bedrooms. Running water,
nothing else. A mother and six
children, babies. The mother i'll in
bed. All of them in terror of
fire.
"My walls were hot from the fire
next door" the mother tells the
visitors. eve thought we'd burn,
too. Some day, ! guess...." and a
haunted look is in the mothers ewes.
as she counts the six kiddies play
ing around her bed in the window
less room. Her face is that Of a
pale child wife of II. She is small
and slight and like a plant that has
tried to be a flower, growing in a
not of sand in the corner Of damp
dark cellar. She smiles. and her
smile is more tragic and heartrend-
ing than the story Of their struggle
70 live. She thinks the city should
build houses and rent D an at cost.
She feels sure IL only he working
class women could get ogether, they
could force thru many things that
nobody will do for them now. IF
we'd stand together and make a
noise" Yes. she sees that organi-
cation is the best, the only way.
Ready to March.
She introduces the two friends
from a working women's organiza-
ton" TO Mrs. Flynn, "who has five
little ones, lives in two rooms only