St. Michael in Old Town

The Great Chicago Fire of 1871

On October 9, 1871, mid-morning, the great bells in St. Michael’s tower began to toll a warning, slowly, sonorously. It was a bright and dry day, a little more than two years since the dedication of the imposing new church.

St. Michael’s history goes back to 1848, when Michael Diversey donated the land. His family’s name is perpetuated in Diversey Boulevard, and his Christian name in the church is dedicated to his patron, Saint Michael. The first church was built in 1852 on the corner of Hudson Avenue and North Avenue, and now, in 1871, as the firestorm moved northward, the new church and neighborhood were threatened.

People hoped the fire could be stopped at the Chicago River; however, gusts of wind blew flaming debris across the water to the grain elevators on the northern bank. The wooden roof of the pumping station went up in a blaze, leaving the entire city without water, and the southside gasworks exploded with a roar. The firestorm and its whirlwinds began to devour the North Side.

Called by the tolling of St. Michael’s church bells, the German parishioners filled the wood-cobbled streets and planked sidewalks, hoping the massive walls of St. Michael's would resist the fire. When the crowd saw the Alexian Brothers Hospital going up in flames, they knew that their parish church would burn. Pastor Peter Zimmer and volunteers dashed about the church, scooping up what they could and hurrying to the monastery garden to bury some of the salvaged treasures. The large wooden crucifix that hung in the monastery’s lower corridor was dismantled and buried along with other treasures and many volumes from the library. Father Charles Hahn returned from a northern suburb with a team and wagon which they loaded with vestments, sacred items, the hand-carved stations of the cross, and as much clothing as they could gather. Then, the Sisters clambered aboard as they set out for safety four miles north at the orphanage of the Poor Handmaid Sisters at Rosehill.

Clapboard houses on all sides of the church wrinkled and withered in fire. Some called it an ocean of flames, describing it as a breaker a mile long. It leaped like waves 300 feet into the air and blew smoke, sparks, and lighted shingles in every direction. Over the roar of fire, shouts, and the tolling of the bells, explosions were heard as the fire force blew up buildings.

They watched as the church took fire. Finally, great shafts of flame and burning debris smashed the east side window and entered the church.

Alight like a torch held aloft in the darkened sky, the upper section of the bell tower burned and began to crumble. The huge bells hurtled from their tower with a dull thud and melted into a toneless mass of bronze.

By nine o’clock on the evening of the 9th, the fire had gotten as far as the city’s outskirts at Fullerton Avenue. Beyond Fullerton Avenue, the fire did not have much to feed on. Rain began to fall. Pastor Fr. Zimmer, the clergy staff, and a handful of parishioners returned on Tuesday morning to survey the debris through a pall of smoke and smoldering embers. Gone were the Redemptorist monastery, the Sisters’ convent, and the school. Miraculously the shell of St. Michael’s stood. The solid brick and stone walls and the soaring Corinthian columns had survived the fire; they stood then as they would stand again when the church was restored.

The burning of their church lit a flame in the determination of St. Michael’s parishioners. They set about propping up the now free-standing columns and began clearing away the rubble. They shoveled piles of ashes and debris into the catacomb of tunnels that ran beneath the old church [while ashes are still in the basement of the church, they are no longer accessible].

Many of the books and other treasures buried in the monastery garden were disintegrated. The icon of Our Mother Perpetual Help had been previously rescued and stored for safekeeping. Our Lady would continue to bless St. Michael Church in Old Town.

The parishioners wasted very little time on self-pity and with typical German industry, set about rebuilding their homes and church. Soon temporary wooden huts dotted the neighborhood around St. Michael Church. Temporarily, the Redemptorists stayed in Rosehill. On Sunday, October 15, 1871, Pastor Fr. Zimmer said Mass for the people in a private home. During the week, Brothers Adam, Theobold, and Adrian, with the help of a local carpenter, put up a ninety-foot wooden shanty. Its back wall was stone for the shanty propped against the old garden wall. One end of this structure served as a shelter for an open-air altar. On Sunday, October 22, 1871, the first two services were offered in this shelter.

In early November 1871, a temporary building was erected on Hulburt (Cleveland Avenue) Street. The lower floors created temporary quarters for the church. The upper floors provided space for a school, and later, when the church was completely restored, the entire building was used as a school. Within two years after the church was destroyed, damage to the structure was repaired and insured with the donations of skilled labor and money from so many benefactors including St. Michael’s devastated parishioners, Bishop Foley, and Redemptorist parishes as far away as New York and Boston.

The great day in St. Michael parish’s history came on October 12, 1873, when the parishioners celebrated the resurrection of their church. Marching bands from the parishes of St. Joseph, St. Boniface, St. Anthony, and others awakened the slumbering city with exuberant distinct marches. The bands met at Erie Street and began a two-mile-long triumphant parade to the doors of St. Michael. They drew up before a huge wreath on the corner of Hurlbut Street (Cleveland Avenue) and Linden Street (Eugenie Street) inscribed in grand gold letters, with the cheery if slightly prosaic message: “Welcome you, friends, from afar and near, to bless this, the house of the Lord most dear.”

It was not until 1876, however, that the new bells arrived. According to the church records they were cast in bronze by the McShane Company. They were named after St. Michael, St. Mary, St. Joseph, St. Alphonsus, and St. Theresa. These are the melodious bells that Oldtowners hear today as they sound on the quarter, half, and hour. It is often said “you know that you are in Old Town when you hear the bells in St. Michael.”

That same year of 1876 saw the completion of the parish house and the installation of tinted glass to replace the temporary translucent windows. It was on September 16, 1902, that the 16 leaded and stained-glass windows were installed. They were created by the Mayer Window Art Institute of Munich, Germany, and they are ranked high among the beautiful examples of German ecclesiastic art glass still to be seen in this country.

St. Michael's doors are still open to welcome all to express their faith in a God who tremendously loves everyone.

(This story was updated and edited using information from the Redemptorist Archival Annals and the Parish Centennial publication). Rev. E.Vella, C.Ss.R. Aug. 19, 2022.

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