Brown David M - Gone at 3:17: The Untold Story of the Worst School Disaster in American History

Gone at 3:17

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The Untold Story of the Worst School Disaster in American History

David M. Brown and Michael Wereschagin

The prose and poetry of Carolyn Jones Frei is used with her permission.

Copyright 2012 by David M. Brown and Michael Wereschagin

Published in the United States by Potomac Books, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Brown, David M. (David Mark), 1948
Gone at 3:17 : the untold story of the worst school disaster in American history / David M. Brown and Michael Wereschagin. 1st ed.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-61234-153-8 (hardcover: alk. paper)
ISBN 978-1-61234-154-5 (electronic edition)
1. Consolidated School (New London, Tex.)History20th century. 2. ExplosionsTexasNew LondonHistory20th century. 3. DisastersTexasNew LondonHistory20th century. 4. High schoolsTexasNew LondonHistory20th century. 5. Disaster victimsTexasNew LondonBiography. 6. New London (Tex.)Biography. 7. New London (Tex.)History20th century. I. Wereschagin, Michael. II. Title.
LD7501.N4662B76 2012
373.764185dc23

2011023365

Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper that meets the American National Standards Institute Z39-48 Standard.

Potomac Books
22841 Quicksilver Drive
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First Edition

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Gone at 3:17is dedicated to preserving the memory of the events of March 18, 1937, in honor of the many victims who perished and those who survived to courageously carry on for the sake of all of us.

It is also dedicated with much appreciation to Clyde Williams, a great teacher and friend.

In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.

In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps,
the people march:

Where to? what next?

CARL SANDBURG, THE PEOPLE, YES

The authors wish to thank, first and foremost, their wives, Mary Brown and Neva German, without whom this and so much else in their lives would not be possible. These two women have shepherded this project, steered our writing, reeled us in, and lifted us up. It is for them that we write.

Mary Brown took on the additional responsibility of managing the book project in its various phases. She maintained a list of people who were interested in the book and kept them updated with e-mail newsletters. She spent painstaking hours putting together the victims list that appears in the In Memoriam section, gleaning information from archival records, statements by family members, and tombstones in various cemeteries. Mary also gets credit for the books poignant title.

So many others helped, directly and indirectly, with making Gone at 3:17 a reality that naming them runs the risk of leaving some out. Please accept our apology for any oversights in advance.

Hilary Claggett, senior editor at Potomac Books, cannot be thanked enough for believing that the manuscript she received from us contained a powerful story that needed to be told in a book. We also appreciate the skill and hard work put into improving the book by Amanda Irle, assistant production editor at Potomac Books, and copyeditor Julie Kimmel. David Fugate, our agent at LaunchBooks, showed the kind of determination in finding a good publisher for this work that makes him a champion in our hearts.

David and Marys childrenAnita and Ina Brown, Dallas Hallam, and Mackenzie, Blair, and Ted Trunzowere of priceless assistance.

Michael would like to give thanks for years of support from Laura and Michael and from John. He is also grateful to Joshua, Alexis, Barrett, Nikolai, and Elyana for showing what can be. Finally, he wishes to acknowledge his parentsall of themfor the unconditional and the inexpressible. Mom, Dad, Mary Jo, and Victor, thank you.

Thanks also to Dr. William Hirsch for calculating the power of the monster.

Those who read successive versions of the manuscript, offering editing advice and catching ts that were not crossed and other errors, received many hugs and handshakes for that sometimes tedious work. Thanks go to Bill Thompson, Carolyn Jones Frei, John Davidson, Miles Toler, Peggy OLeary, Joyce Lynch, Carmen Gentile, Bob Del Greco, Steve Lydick, Martha Schroeder, Mary Schroeder, and Brad Bumsted.

Special thanks to B. J. and Agust GudmundssonB. J. for creating our wonderful book trailers and Agust for his enduring friendship and solid advice. Special thanks, too, for Druva, who created the hauntingly beautiful music for the first book trailer.

Weve thanked Rob Pratte of KDKA Radio in Pittsburgh in person many times and now give him a formal thank-you for showing strong early interest in the book and going the extra mile to let us talk about Gone at 3:17 on the air while interviewing survivors of that terrible disaster.

Thanks to Jo Ann Gosnell for the good work she did in cleaning up some of the archival photos used in the book, and special thanks to Anita Brown for re-creating all the photos in the book from very old and weathered snapshots.

Thanks to Robert Brown, Amy McCarty, and the staff at Inhouse Associates for creating and maintaining the books website. Thanks also to Robert for creating the map of Rusk County, Texas, in 1937.

We also are grateful to have gained insights and knowledge from the groundbreaking works of Lorine Zylks Bright and Robert L. Jackson.

Meander along the back roads of Rusk County, Texas, into a countryside rolling with gentle hills, and you come upon a rustic cemetery.

The sun fires hazy shafts sideways through the branches of tall pines on Pleasant Hill. Near the graveyards entrance a marker quickly catches your eye. Black stains creeping down the face of the stone show its age.

JAMES W. HARRIS
June 19, 1924
March 18, 1937
GONE, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

Near Jamess plot, surrounded by white wildflowers in the spring of any given year, is the angled headstone of Sammie Lee Shoemate, born November 28, 1925, died March 18, 1937. Behind her is another, and another behind that, markers with one date in common. Turn, and there are more.

When the sun slips behind the pines, and the wind stirs softly through lush green grass covering the long-ago scars of a calamity, it is possible to imagine that you hear the whisper of voices. This is sacred ground.

March 18, 1937, has been called the day a town lost its future, the day a generation perished, the day when angels cried.

In this world there are monsters, inhuman forces that devour the innocent and the foolish, the beautiful and the shy, the strong and the weak. They are sometimes born of the carelessness of familiarity. We surround ourselves with dangerous elements, and the more we use them, the less we think of their danger. But the substance of their danger does not change.