THE GREAT HINCKLEY FIRE
For over a month fires
had been smoldering in the swamps and gradually spreading in all directions
in the northern part of Chisago County and the southern part of Pine County.
No rain had fallen for nearly a month and the forests and farms were like
tinder. On the morning of September 1, 1894, a smart breeze sprang up from
the south, fanning the fires which extended over the thousands of acres southeast
and west of Hinckley.
The fierce flaming heat became so intense in certain localities, it created what seemed to be a vacuum. The vacuum would then quickly fill with violent and explosive gases; yet at times appear entirely at rest in spite of the brisk south wind. With a river so near, there would have been time to seek safety in flight and even to have removed goods if no greater danger menaced the townspeople than an ordinary forest fire. But when the fire burst over the town it came in fierce explosions and in streaks, with suffocating choking gases that paralyzed the victims even before the burning.
In one instance a man was stricken down, but not burned enough to destroy his clothes, yet in one of his pockets was found a small leather purse in which were four silver dollars welded together in one solid piece. In another case two horses were badly burned, but the wagonload of hay they were pulling was unharmed. It was no ordinary fire. It came too quickly for analysis. It baffled science. It could not be accounted for. It was a phenomenon that defies all description. It did not crawl or creep but burst and exploded. It roared, seethed and boiled. On the ground it swept forward in walls and cylinders of flame; in the air it soared in massive balls of fire and gas. Its heat was intense and searing and it devoured kingly pines in minutes, yet spared fragile saplings close by.
Four hundred and fifty-nine people perished in Hinckley and surrounding villages, with all the structures virtually wiped out. It is doubtful if any other fire that may have wrought such destruction in this country ever possessed the power of that which destroyed Hinckley.
Jim Root & Engine NO. 69
A light broke through the blackness and a train engine appeared on the tracks ahead. It was the southbound Limited passenger train from Duluth engineered by Jim Root. Those who were attempting to outrun the fire by going north on the St. Paul and Duluth tracks had gone about one mile when they heard the roar of engine No. 69.
The head of the group flagged the train with cries of, "For God's sake save us!" Root brought the train to a halt. As the frantic refugees crowded aboard, they poured out the tragedy of Hinckley. More came running from other directions. Altogether about 150 to 160 people managed to reach the train. By that time Root could see the flames advancing towards them and there was no alternative but to put his engine in reverse and back up.
He remembered a marshy spot near the track six miles north of Hinckley, which had been appropriately named Skunk Lake. It was a fiery trip back to the lake with the flames gaining on them. Some passengers were hysterical and had to be pacified by the crew. Root himself passed out at the throttle and was revived when Fireman McGowan threw a pail of water on him. By the heroic efforts of the train crew, all 300 passengers and refugees were delivered to the foul but life-saving waters of Skunk Lake.
More:
Macallester College History of Hinckley: The Great Fire of 1894
Macallester College History of Hinckley: New York Times Newspaper Articles on The Hinckley Fire
Macallester College History of Hinckley: Hinckley, The Railroad Boomtown