Fire: Chicago, 1871
Nate Cooper swung the empty milk pail as he walked down Canal Street. It was a warm, breezy morning, and he was glad to be out of his Sunday suit. Aunt Ruth always made him go to church. This morning, aptly enough, the preacher had done a whole sermon on hellfire and brimstone.
The air was still filled with the acrid smell of smoke from the fire the night before. With the breeze coming from the southwest, that was a blessing. Usually when the wind came from this direction, it carried the...