Morro Castle : The Forgotten Voices : Part 2

The Morro Castle's B Deck public rooms were elaborate, wood paneled spaces, with a decidedly pre-World War One atmosphere. The focal point of the suite was the lounge, which rose through two decks and filled the entire space between the ship’s two funnels. Because of the funnels, the lounge did not have a grand entrance- passengers going to and from the room had to pass through either the port side writing room or starboard side library to reach the Grand Lobby with its elevator and staircase. The equivalent spaces aft of the lounge were not occupied by rooms, but by hallways leading to the smoking room. The whole area was so well traveled, at all hours, that a fire could not possibly gain much headway without being discovered.

James Flynn, of Philadelphia, stood in the B Deck lobby just forward of the writing room. He had made the acquaintance of pretty Ann Conroy, also of Philadelphia, and the two passed a quiet hour together walking the length of the enclosed promenade decks that flanked the public rooms and deluxe cabins of B Deck. There was a chill in the air, and Mr. Flynn had excused himself to return to the cabin he shared with Milton Klein (D-355) in order to get a pair of steamer blankets. Passing through the deserted writing room, he heard a strange crackling from behind the door of a locker in its rear port corner. He headed back into the lounge, where a steward stood talking with some passengers. He brought the steward into the writing room, and when the man opened the locker door flames leaped out into the room. The steward slammed the door shut, but it swung open again and the flames set the carpet on fire. The steward ran aft into the lounge and Flynn ran forward through the lobby and passenger corridor of B Deck looking for a fire extinguisher. He did not find one. When he returned to the lobby, a passenger was pulling the fire alarm, and no smoke or flames had entered the area forward of the writing room. Crew members, wearing rubber gear, entered from the port side with a hose, and Mr. Flynn exited through the door through which they had just run and returned, aft, to where Miss Conroy was waiting.

In his cabin directly over the writing room, Max Berliner never stood a chance. Evidence indicates that he woke up at the last second. His remains; teeth, a few charred bones and a Masonic ring, were found in the middle of the floor of Deluxe Cabin A-10, and not mingled with the remains of his mattress. In a stupor from the intense heat and smoke, he may have tried to reach the door or window of his room before collapsing. Only 45 minutes before, more than a dozen people had been taking light refreshments in the first spot aboard the ship to become unsurvivable.

Loretta Hassall, a 20 year old college student from Forest Hills, New York, had parted from her friends of the voyage, Henry Borman, Ann Litwak and Fannie Fryman moments before the writing room locker caught fire. The four had passed the evening conversing in the lounge, but at ten minutes of three they took the hint when a crew member began vacuuming the room around them and decided to retire for the night. Loretta noted that two women remained in the room, attempting to sleep on the sofas by the fireplace. She briefly dropped in to the smoking room, where a few passengers remained awake, and then walked forward to the main lobby, passing through the empty library on the starboard side of B Deck. She noted no smoke or flames in the lounge, but when she stepped from the library into the lobby, she saw fire pouring out of the writing room door, towards the staircase. A man was pulling the fire alarm. She turned and ran back towards the smoking room, calling out "fire!" as she went.

Loretta’s mother and father, Elsie and James Hassall were asleep two decks below the writing room, in D-304. 304 was an inside cabin, one of only a handful aboard the ship, and was located just forward of the grand staircase. Elsie was awakened by the smell of smoke entering through the ventilation system, and noted by her husband’s watch that it was 3:15 a.m. She opened the door to her cabin and saw nothing amiss. She must have walked a few steps back to the lobby, because she would tell the FBI that she went to where she could see a porthole through which the reflection of the fire on the ocean was visible. She ran back to her cabin and woke up Mr. Hassall. They put on their life preservers and then pounded on the door to D-310, in which their 16 year old daughter Ethel was asleep. Assistant cruise director Herman Cluthe came up and told them to be quiet, and that everything would be all right. The C Deck lobby was empty, but when the Hassalls and a group of passengers walked up to B Deck they came across a scene of great confusion. People ran in all directions, and although they saw no flames, a great deal of smoke was pouring out of the writing room door and filling the port side of the room. The Hassalls exited through the starboard doors to the promenade deck and went astern, to the aft grand staircase. They wanted to go up to A Deck but were prevented from doing so by people coming down.

Morro Castle's foyer and staircase

The location of the fire, amidships on an upper deck, was singularly unfortunate. While the Morro Castle continued to sail northward, the flames were driven back through the lounge and smoking room, cutting off access to the boat deck by way of the aft grand staircase. Just forward of the B Deck lobby was a series of eight luxury suites. These rooms were the only large block of cabins on ship to remain unoccupied. Perhaps twenty minutes into the fire a massive explosion, originating forward on B Deck, rocked the ship. It blew the flames into the forward staircase, cutting off upward escape for the occupants of cabins on C and D Decks. And no choice remained for most of the passengers except to head to the small, open, promenade decks that ringed the stern of the ship. Water, from outlets that had not been turned off when the crewmen and passengers manning hoses dropped them in the face of overwhelming defeat, sloshed on the floors. Thick, noxious smoke blew back overhead along the passages and, as it settled downward, it burned eyes and throats. Although the ship had an alarm system, and at least two passengers saw it being activated, the majority of those on board never heard it. Some were awakened by dutiful crew members. Others were roused by friends. Most, it seems, woke up reflexively when they smelled smoke, or were startled awake by the sound of running, and screams, in the hallways outside of their rooms. Many instinctively headed for the stairs, only to be driven away by the flames, and soon found themselves part of the same mob that had awakened them minutes before, heading for the stern. When the electric system burned though, perhaps a half hour into the disaster’s progress, people had only the reflected light of the fire to guide them along.

Mr. and Mrs. Henry Jakoby, of Ridgewood Avenue, Brooklyn, and their 17 year old son, Henry Jr., were asleep in cabin D-361. The Jakobys were traveling with the Concordia Singing Society, of which they were not members, at the invitation of their friends Martin and Marie Renz, and Jacob and Minnie Likewise. Henry Jakoby was a brew master at Piels, while Mr. Likewise and Mr. Renz both worked in the painting trade. The Jakoby family had gone to bed at about 1 a.m. after packing their clothing and souvenirs. They were awakened by their friends pounding at the cabin door at a quarter to four. They only had time to partially dress, and put on their life preservers. Henry Jr. led them forward, but the way was impassable and to the group’s horror, the flames that were rolling down the staircase set his sleeve ablaze. They turned and fled aft.