The Hotel Fire

A Story by Elizabeth

a fire at a hotel in Bozeman Montana

The year was 1942, I was currently 10 and living in Bozeman, Montana. Nothing much ever happens here. It’s pretty quiet, except when the hotel fire started. I remember I was shopping downtown with my mom, when I heard people screaming and yelling. Curious, we went outside to check what was happening, and right down the street, Hotel Bozeman was on fire! A huge crowd of people were across the street staring in horror at the fiery mess. People were pushing and shoving trying to get out of the hotel.

Pretty soon firefighters showed up, and started working. Some firemen ran inside, trying to save people that were trapped inside, and others were setting up the hoses and spraying the building.

Then, the fire started spreading to the next building. Luckily the people in the building already evacuated. By now, practically the whole town was watching. Everyone watched in horror as the fire kept on spreading.

The firemen kept on working well into the night. The fire was persistent to stay alive. It’s many tentacles reaching up into the air, trying to become as big as it can. By now the fire has reached the end of the street. So the firemen decided to just keep it under control and let it die out.

By sunrise there was nothing but rubble, embers and smoke left. The fire destroyed all that it touched. Many people lost their businesses, possessions, and a place to stay. It was very devastating. Only a few people died, but most were just burned. The people that were currently staying in the hotel were graciously welcomed to stay with us and other families.

I remember going through the rubble of the hotel with Lily, (a girl whose family was staying with us) when we came across a little doll. I picked it up and saw that half of its face was charred and melted off. I then noticed that Lily started tearing up. I asked her why and she explained that this was her sister’s doll. The sister that died in the fire. We walked home in silence that day. We never really talked about the doll or fire again. But I remember seeing Lily, every now and then look at the doll and cry in silence, silently mourning.

It took a couple years for the town to rebuild itself, but the town and residents returned to it’s usual self. After a few months of staying with us, Lily and her family left. Lily, and I still stay in contact with each other. And every so often, whenever she’s visiting town, we’ll meet up for coffee or something and chat. We still don’t talk about the fire, but we still hear other people talk about it. But to this day, no one knows how the fire started.