Nappanee - The dawn of the 20th century often calls to mind notions of opulence and grandeur. Even in some of America's smaller communities, regal living and abundance of high society were norms of the day.
Such an atmosphere was not lost to the thriving city of Nappanee. Enthusiasm for a new opportunity to promote fashionable entertainment was heightened by the completion of a new building in 1899. The stately yet elegantly detailed brick structure was located on the northwest corner of Main and Market streets.
It was called simply "The Auditorium." And during the festive heyday of its early era, right on through the Roaring '20s, the venue was a formidable spot for travelers from all over the area to partake of polished showcases.
One of the premier events to grace the stage was a lighthearted comic farce known as "Kidnapped in New York," which starred the "reigning sensation of the country," Barney Gilmore, a promising young character actor and comedian. Apparently, Gilmore's rendition won the audience over, as was noted in the margin of a now-faded program commemorating the evening. "A dandy - the real opening of the new auditorium."
The ambience of the auditorium continued to thrive and evolve over the course of the next few decades. From the formal galas that ushered in holidays and special events, to the simpler celebrations of high school drama and glee clubs, the stage was a foremost place to witness talents from near and far.
Vaudeville even enjoyed a supreme reign at the auditorium, with frequent bookings from such acts as the "Conn Wonder Quartette" up to "High Class." Admission prices were anywhere from a dime to 20 cents. The performers often consisted of traveling troupes from the worldly cities of Detroit, New York and Chicago.
The auditorium is also credited with introducing some of the area's first motion picture opportunities in the late 1910s. "We wish to assure the public that it will be the policy of this new management to furnish the best pictures that can be obtained," a posted notice promised visitors in June 1918. By 1923, patrons were treated to top-quality moving pictures courtesy of then state-of-the-art machinery.
Meanwhile, the lower portion of the building boasted a longtime business known as Weiss and Frevert Brothers Hardware. By the time the Depression era had wound down, the long city block featured an array of other popular retail locales, and directly adjoining the hardware store were such shopping outlets as the Jet White store and the Mullett grocery store.
On Jan. 21, 1937, the wind was wrecking chilly havoc throughout the city. Seeking refuge from the blustery afternoon, many shoppers filled the downtown square.
At the Jet White store, manager Leander Nunemaker was busy fielding questions from a customer when he heard some rustling sounds from a back storage room. Sensing something amiss, Nunemaker told the patron to call the fire department as he went to investigate. He was met with a thick wall of smoke that disabled him from seeing his own hand in front of his face.
The sirens at the fire station sounded at 4:30 p.m. and Nappanee's fire chief, Henry Richmond, was summoned to check out the situation. In that short time span from the initial call to Richmond's arrival, the fire had already crept to the rooftops, shooting from the ceiling. The worst case scenario had just happened - a kerosene storage unit had succumbed to the heat and fire and exploded just moments after Nunemaker's discovery.
Worried about the tightly packed stretch of businesses that shared the Market Street corridor, Richmond wasted no time rounding up the local volunteer firefighters. But traditional mediums of fighting blazes proved fruitless. A chemical stream powered onto the flames was useless, and a strong east wind sent balls of fire whipping through the air and all through the west side of the city.
Word of the crisis spread as quickly as the inferno that threatened to break the heart of the city. Reports began to circulate that "Nappanee was on fire," and reports estimate that some 5,000 concerned residents and curious onlookers cascaded into the area.
The call for extra manpower was issued to a host of neighboring communities, including Wakarusa, Bremen, New Paris, Elkhart and Warsaw. Plumes of smoke had risen high enough into the air that many of the traveling firefighters could see the fire's location long before they crossed into the Nappanee city limits.
Warsaw firemen encountered another troublesome circumstance en route to offering aid. The main pumping truck decided, rather abruptly, to break down on the way to Nappanee. Undaunted, the men simply scooped up whatever equipment could be hauled away and hopped aboard other vehicles, leaving the faulty truck behind.
Dozens of forces worked well into the dawn to quash the blaze. By the time the fire was reduced to thin streams of smoke and piles of sooty debris, the sector was the scene of disaster.
Gone was the Mullett grocery, and all of the rooftops in the block sustained serious damage. Huffman's Bakery, located across the street, was so affected by the heat of the fire that windows were blown out. Other nearby stores with plate-glass windows were littered with shards of glass.
And the auditorium, once the home of a wealth of memories and joyous occasions, was only a smoldering heap of ashes and twisted rubble.
The beloved structure was never rebuilt, and today, Dr. Anglemeyer's osteopathic family medical clinic operates on the site. Losses were tallied at approximately $40,000 1937 dollars, and miraculously, there were no known accounts of serious injury.
"How unavailing are the efforts of man was demonstrated in Nappanee on Tuesday evening," noted one observer of the tragedy. "One can well understand the dread with which ancient people looked upon fire."