On the 15th of May, 1929, hundreds of doctors, nurses and patients were going about their
business in the outpatient building of the Cleveland Clinic - a modern (and in some ways
revolutionary) healthcare center in Cleveland, Ohio. At around 11:30am the upper floors of the
clinic were suddenly flooded with a thick yellowish-brown gas. Those who inhaled it
were dead within moments, never knowing or understanding exactly what had killed them.
The Cleveland Clinic opened its doors to patients on the 28th of February,
1921. It was very much ahead of its time. The clinic was a single not-for-profit
organization that would be a base of operations for professionals with a range of specialties.
Its mission was to provide patient care, education and opportunities for valuable medical research.
In this it was certainly successful. Among many other contributions, the Cleveland Clinic helped
to revolutionize the treatment of people with diabetes by making use of the, then relatively
new, drug insulin. It was also consistently at the forefront of cardiac medicine, while at the
same time pushing relentlessly for better, more comfortable conditions for patients in wards.
Year on year the Cleveland Clinic grew, going from a single building to a complex of several,
including a four-storey outpatient clinic along with an adjoining hospital
and several houses designed to provide lodgings for patients undergoing
long-term treatment. For eight years the Cleveland Clinic was an extraordinary force for good
in the world. The 15th of May, 1929, began just like any other day at the clinic.
The outpatient building was busy, filled with doctors, nurses, patients and visitors. Being
an outpatient building meant that there were no wards or beds. Everyone attending the clinic that
day was there for investigations or treatments that would see them home again by the evening.
The fire began down in a sub-basement room which was used to store x-ray film. In 1929,
x-rays made use of nitrocellulose film - a volatile substance that could easily catch fire.
Moreover, when it burned it produced poisonous gases, and resisted the use of water to
extinguish any flames. In fact, immersing burning nitrocellulose film in water would usually only
increase the production of poisonous gases. The exact cause of the fire is uncertain, but
many sources blame an unprotected light bulb that was situated too close to a stack of film.
Whatever the cause, once at least some of the film had ignited
the rest soon followed, creating a powerful blaze which produced huge quantities of poisonous gas.
This gas seeped slowly up into the building proper, initially going largely unnoticed.
Its progress was slow enough to cause no disruption or alarm.
As the fire consumed more film, however, the situation worsened significantly: caches of film
ignited en masse, resulting in two explosions - the blasts from which not only severely damaged
the fabric of the building, but also had the deadly effect of blasting the gas through pipes,
doors, vents and conduits into every part of the building. Now, rather than seeping slowly up from
the basement, the gas was everywhere. Doctors and nurses were killed before being able to rise from
their desks. Patients died in moments, having scarcely registered the presence of the gas. It
enveloped people so quickly that they often had no time to even think about escaping. An Associated
Press report from the day detailed the conditions that were found in the aftermath of the disaster:
"Surgical equipment lay ready for use in the examining rooms. In the x-ray developing room
a roll of film was stretched to dry. A wheelchair with the blanket thrown aside blocked a balcony
overlooking the waiting room. A stenographer's half-finished letter was found in an office.
Everything was abandoned as the victims realized
too late that the brown fumes curling through door casings and along the halls carried death."
Passers-by outside the hospital heard the explosions and rushed to help... only to be struck
down by the gas themselves, or to find themselves quite unable to render aid to those inside.
"The fumes were so strong as to act almost instantly. Pedestrians caught outside the building
fell to the ground and lay unconscious until dragged to safety when the gas lifted. One woman
smashed a third-floor window and was preparing to leap as firemen spread a life net. She stood
poised. The amber gas swirled about her shoulders, and she collapsed... falling inside the building."
Rescuers converged on the clinic, but their efforts were hampered by the lingering gas.
One witness reported being overcome when still almost a city block away from the clinic.
Police, ambulance and fire personnel had to get much closer than that if they were to have any
hope of rescuing anybody. In many cases it was only when the gas had dissipated that a
rescue could be made, although several people were willing to risk - and indeed sacrifice - their own
lives in order to drag patients to safety. Policeman Ernest Staab, just 30 years old,
entered the building again and again, despite visible fumes still hanging in the air.
He dragged 21 people away from the choking vapor before he was overcome
and passed away. Though he gave his life in the course of affecting a rescue,
several of those he dragged from the building went on to survive.
In the aftermath of the disaster the clinic was devastated. The building was severely damaged
from the explosions, and it looked as though operations could not possibly continue...
until a local philanthropist, Samuel Mather, stepped in and provided alternate premises nearby.
This meant that the Cleveland Clinic could continue treating patients, including those who
had suffered serious damage to their lungs from inhaling even tiny amounts of the poisonous gas.
In many cases recovery was a slow and painful process, if it was possible at all. Patients were
given oxygen, but often this was not sufficient, with some victims dying weeks after the disaster.
In total the incident claimed the lives of 123 people and severely injured many more.
In the aftermath of the disaster, and as the cause could not be positively identified,
it was found that the hospital was not at fault. The way in which the
x-ray film had been stored was in line with what was required at the time.
To address this, the guidelines for the storage of not just film but many other hazardous materials
were revised. The horror of the Cleveland Clinic disaster had so captured the public's attention
that this reform extended beyond Ohio, and was applied nationwide - something which may
well have prevented numerous other disasters. Ultimately the Cleveland Clinic would survive.
The building was completely renovated and restored, and remains in place to this day.
Now, however, it's part of a sprawling complex of medical facilities.
The Cleveland Clinic has grown from a handful of buildings to a huge campus, and has further
establishments all over the city and beyond. It's one of the best-rated hospitals in America,
and is consistently among the best in the world for cardiac care. In line with its original
ethos, it provides patient care, teaching facilities and opportunities for research...
but on a scale which its founders could never possibly have imagined. The Cleveland Clinic
disaster is a footnote in its history - a tragic series of events that cost 123 people their lives.
The clinic has gone on, however, to save and transform the lives of hundreds of thousands.