Women’s History Month and My Novella THE NATURE OF LOVE

As a fiction writer, I am interested in the past, the present and the future. As a female, I am especially interested in the history of women, and thus wanted to write a blog post in honor of March being Women’s History Month. To write this post I revisited my own historical novella THE NATURE OF LOVE, which covers a span of years in the 20th Century and the impact of historical events on the lives of the novella’s main characters.

THE NATURE OF LOVE begins:

In the spring of 1995 a female history professor in her 51st year — a student of the history of women in the United States her entire adult life — begins a video record of her own history paralleling the ups and downs of women’s rights in the second half of the 20th century.

She starts her recording: “My story could be of interest to future historians, if there is a future here on earth.

“And even if our civilization is completely destroyed, aliens will someday come to this planet. There will be historians with those aliens, searching for the truth of our life on earth.”

THE NATURE OF LOVE switches back and forth between Jennifer’s story (the history professor) and Judith’s story. One of the segments of Judith’s story is based on the 1911 Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire.

The Wikipedia entry on the fire begins (the boldface below is mine):

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in New York City on March 25, 1911 was the deadliest industrial disaster in the history of the city, and one of the deadliest in US history. The fire caused the deaths of 146 garment workers – 123 women and 23 men[1] – who died from the fire, smoke inhalation, or falling or jumping to their deaths. Most of the victims were recent Italian and Jewish immigrant women aged 16 to 23; of the victims whose ages are known, the oldest victim was 43-year-old Providenza Panno, and the youngest were 14-year-olds Kate Leone and “Sara” Rosaria Maltese.

The factory was located on the eighth, ninth and tenth floors of the Asch Building, at 23–29 Washington Place in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of Manhattan. The 1901 building still stands today and is known as the Brown Building. It is part of and owned by New York University.[

Because the owners had locked the doors to the stairwells and exits – a then-common practice to prevent workers from taking unauthorized breaks and to reduce theft – many of the workers who could not escape from the burning building jumped from the high windows. The fire led to legislation requiring improved factory safety standards and helped spur the growth of the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union (ILGWU), which fought for better working conditions for sweatshop workers.

This fire has haunted me for years, especially after seeing that the actual building is one block away from Washington Square Park. (I had always pictured the building in a very dense part of New York City.)

This is my fictional account of the fire in THE NATURE OF LOVE:

Judith’s Story

New York City, Spring 1911

Judith stomped on the pedal of the sewing machine owned by the Triangle Shirtwaist Company. The pile of finished shirtwaist pieces next to her machine was her clock. Each day the height of the pile indicated how long she had been at her machine, stitching and stitching and stitching.

It was hot, so hot. The doors to the fire escape were nailed shut. The building contained flammable chemicals but had been declared “fireproof.”

They had all foolishly participated in a strike for better working conditions. The strike just meant there had been less food at home than usual. The International Ladies Garment Workers Union was fighting to improve these sweatshops, but what could be done? The owners had all the power.

Soon Lillian would climb the factory’s five flights of stairs bringing Judith a cold lunch and the baby. Judith would nurse Sylvia while eating her sandwich and watching Lillian regain her breath. Five flights was a long climb for a five-year-old carrying a six-month-old baby. And on the children’s return home Lillian would have another long climb to their fourth-floor cold-water flat.

The women around Judith spoke in Yiddish, cursing at the machines as the thread broke off the spindle or the pedal jammed. Judith pricked her thumb but could barely feel the stab through her roughened fingers.

At night Jacob would hold her hands to his face. Often he would cry. In Yiddish he would say, “It hurts me to see your hands.”

“Speak English,” she would say. “We must speak English.”

At that moment smoke swooshed into the room. The women coughed, gasped for breath. “Fire!” someone yelled. “Fire!” That English word Judith knew!

Judith sprang from her machine. Next to her Tova clutched her spindle. “Pull your shawl over your mouth and come with me!” Judith screamed.

“The doors are locked! We’re trapped!”

Judith slapped Tova across the face. “Come with me!”

They ran towards the internal stairs. “We’ll have to try to make it,” Judith said.

Screams filled the room. Women shoved towards the windows, crying for help. Flames lit the wooden floors.

They reached the stairs but smoke billowed up towards them. “This is our only chance. We have to try!” Judith said.

“No!” Tova screamed. “I can’t.”

Tova wheeled away and lurched towards a window. She shoved aside the other women and leaned out. Then she jumped.

Her scream followed her all the way down.

Another woman leaned out the window. Then she jumped.

They were jumping to their deaths. Judith had to try the stairs.

The stairs. What if Lillian and Sylvia were already in the building, trapped on the stairs!

Judith wrapped her shawl tighter and plunged down the stairs. The smoke encased her. She kept her hands against the wall and bent down. The air was better near the floor.

She reached the fourth floor. Screams, sobs, terror shot towards her – she could see no one.

She stayed on the stairs, hurling herself down the next flight. On the third floor the heat soared and the fire cackled. No human noises.

The second floor. One more floor. Partway down she stepped into nothingness. Her scream trailed her fall.

Sirens, shouts, cries – inches away. She couldn’t move.

Outside a child’s cry. “Mama, Mama, where are you?”

Lillian! It must be Lillian! Please God!

Judith crawled towards the smoke-engulfed door.

Her mother stood before her, hands flapping at Judith. The goblins of yellow-black flames war danced around her mother, a Cossack sword plunged into her belly.

“Mama, Mama!”

Strong hands pulled Judith from the flames.

Click here to read for free the THE NATURE OF LOVE novella on Wattpad.

Click here to read Wikipedia’s entry on Women’s History Month.

Phyllis Zimbler Miller (@ZimblerMiller) has an M.B.A. from The Wharton School and is the author of fiction and nonfiction books/ebooks. Phyllis is available by skype for book group discussions and may be reached at pzmiller@gmail.com

Her Kindle fiction ebooks may be read for free with a Kindle Unlimited monthly subscription — see www.amazon.com/author/phylliszimblermiller — and her Kindle nonfiction ebooks may also be read for free with a Kindle Unlimited monthly subscription — see www.amazon.com/author/phylliszmiller