Fire Safety Tip #1: Don’t Tell the Audience There’s a Fire

We’ve all heard you’re not supposed to yell “Fire!” in a crowded theatre. It’s a constraint of the First Amendment – free speech is protected, for the most part, but speech with the potential to create harm may not be. But what if there really is a fire? And what happens if you STILL don’t say anything?

Theatre fires were a constant danger in the silent era, since the materials used to create film prints and the electricity needed to power the projectors made for a volatile situation. There were any number of theatre fires during this period, along with hundreds of dangerous situations that were narrowly averted. When a projection room lamp sparked a fire at a Spokane nickelodeon in 1908, for example, the operator didn’t waste time trying to extinguish the flames. Realizing that the fire was more than he could handle, he dashed into the auditorium and hustled patrons to safety, perhaps saving lives in the process. (“Trade Notes,” Moving Picture World, 22 April 1908, Page 308.) Similarly, in 1924, at the Rialto Theatre in Wenatchee, manager J.H. Beckman evacuated his audience into the street when a fire several buildings down the block started getting too close for comfort. The Rialto was spared, but in Beckman’s mind, it was better to be safe than sorry. (“Rialto, Wenatchee, Wash., Narrowly Escapes Bad Fire,” Moving Picture World, 9 February 1924, Page 427.)

Contrast that safety-first mindset with manager Frank Kepel of the Rex Theatre in Spokane, who couldn’t be bothered with a conflagration near his house. In December 1927, in the middle of showing the Pathé serial Hawk of the Hills, Kepel was alerted to the fact that the building next door was on fire and that the Spokane fire department inbound to battle the flames. Time to move the audience toward the fire exits, like manager Beckman did in Wenatchee? Absolutely not, Kepel reasoned…that would just create chaos. Maybe just don’t mention it – what the audience doesn’t know (probably) won’t hurt them.

Still, there was the tiny problem of distracting patrons from the growing ruckus outside. So Frank Kepel marched down one of the aisles and up to the house organist, who was in the middle of playing for the film. We can’t know exactly what words were exchanged, but essentially Kepel was brief and to the point: “We have a situation – I need you to play louder.”

And so that’s what the organist did. The volume on this episode of Hawk of the Hills went WAY up, with the musician improvising new sections of music that kept the pipe organ groaning loud and long. “The organ drowned the fire siren and all the danger of a panic was averted,” wrote Moving Picture World. “[The audience] didn’t even know there had been a fire until they left the theatre to gaze upon the still smoldering building.” (“Wit and Film Kept This Fire a Secret,” Moving Picture World, 17 December 1927, Page 41.)

The staff writer at Moving Picture World seemed to approve of manager Kepel’s decision. One wonders if his patrons felt the same.