The Beverly Hills Tragedy
Twenty years ago on the night of May 28, 1977,a devastating fire swept through the Beverly Hills Supper Club in Southgate, Ky.
The fire was discovered shortly before 9 p.m. and burned most of the night.
It killed 165 people.In the coming weeks, months and years, another horror would become apparent:The deaths could have been prevented.

Timeline to disaster
Here's what was happening on a warm Saturday night on Memorial Day weekend, when the Beverly Hills Supper Club was crowded with between 2,400 and 2,800 people.

Reconstruction of a Tragedy: The Beverly Hills Supper Club Fire

Inside the Beverly Hills Supper Club Fire

'Showplace' pulled them in
Since 1971, the Beverly Hills Supper Club had been a magnet. People came from hundreds of miles around to sample the good food, fine wine and national entertainment in the dining rooms, receptions rooms and showrooms.

'It will be with me until the day I die'
As a banquet captain, Wayne Dammert was responsible for 220 people on the second floor of the nightclub 20 years ago on May 28. He led most of his charges to safety down a rear stairway. But Dammert, now 60, still aches for the victims he couldn't reach.
Patrons complained about the heat, but Wayne Dammert noticed only cigarette smoke.

Twenty-five minutes later, the Beverly Hills Supper Club was ablaze.

''There are few days when I don't think about the fire,'' Dammert said. ''It will be with me until the day I die.''

As a banquet captain, Dammert was responsible for 220 people on the second floor of the nightclub 20 years ago on May 28.

He led most of his charges to safety down a rear stairway.

But Dammert, now 60, still aches for the victims he couldn't reach and for one woman - Sharlene Matthews, who booked a room for the Cincinnati Choral union - who died after trying to warn others.

''She was a hero to me,'' Dammert said. ''She did what I was unable to do.''

Dammert has compiled his memories into a book, ''Inside the Beverly Hills Supper Club Fire,'' co-written by Ron Elliott.

He has organized many reunions of survivors and expects a large turnout for the 20th anniversary on Wednesday at St. Mary's Catholic Church in Alexandria.

''Most of the people who were there loved working there; we loved the people who came there,'' Dammert said of his Beverly Hills colleagues.

Dammert, who has lived in Alexandria for 34 years, spent two stints working at the supper club, once called the ''Showplace of the Nation.''

His first job as a card dealer ran from 1957 through 1961. Although gambling wasn't legal then - or now - government officials winked at the practice, Dammert said. Later, a push by a reform-minded sheriff and citizens against gambling temporarily shut down Beverly Hills and other Newport clubs.

Dammert's second tour of duty was as a banquet captain from 1972 until the fire in 1977.

The club was packed with more than 2,400 patrons during the Memorial Day show with John Davidson.

At 8:35 p.m., a co-worker asked Dammert to approve a customer's check in the first-floor Zebra Room. The room felt slightly warm.

''There were complaints of heat, but I didn't notice anything,'' he said. ''There wasn't anything other than cigarette smoke.'' He went back upstairs.

By 9 p.m., a waitress told him there was a fire in the Zebra Room.

He ran down ''to see what I could do to help,'' Dammert said recently, sitting at his kitchen table.

''We saw a wall of black smoke, and a waitress asked me what to do. I said, "Stand here and direct the people out.' ''

Dammert ran back upstairs and told people to leave through a rear service entrance and the club kitchen. The front spiral staircase was already full of smoke.

Dammert tried to reach patrons in the second-floor dressing rooms but couldn't make it. Dammert, an engineer by day, knew the layout of the club; he knew there were doors leading to the roof and asked several customers to break them down.

But those doors were locked and didn't give in. As the smoke and heat intensified, Dammert gave up his search for patrons.

''A picture of my wife and my children flashed through my eyes. I thought, "I have to get out of here,' '' Dammert said.

Outside the club, Dammert grabbed an ax, climbed a ladder and tried to break down the roof doors. ''But the smoke hit us in the face,'' Dammert said. He climbed down and went to the rear of the club.

''I saw two busboys and one was crying. They said it was terrible in the back. I could hear people yell for oxygen.''

Dammert spent the next few hours covering the dead with coats and praying for their souls.

Amid heroics by patrons, firefighters and staff, Dammert also saw some ghoulish acts: Three men were charged with stealing from the dead.

His wife and four children had spent the night watching television news, not knowing his fate. Later that night, Dammert hitched a ride to the Newport police station and finally called home.

''I could hear the kids cheering,'' he said. ''They thought I had died.''

Toxic materials added to the toll
Cincinnati lawyer Stan Chesley uses a seat cushion from the Beverly Hills Supper Club to demonstrate how toxins from the pillow contributed to the deaths of 165 people nearly 20 years ago.

Faulty wiring focus of blame
The official investigations into what caused the fire at the Beverly Hills Supper Club were inconclusive, but the factor most often cited is aluminum wiring.

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With its high death toll, the Beverly Hills Supper Club fire is considered among the worst such disasters in U.S. history.
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NOVA: What were you doing at the Beverly Hills Supper Club back in May of 1977?

Bohannon: I was working as a cocktail waitress, and I was assigned to the Cabaret Room.

NOVA: And it was an evening like any other?

Bohannon: Not necessarily. It was an extremely busy afternoon and evening. A lot of people were in there that day, more than usual probably. There were a lot of things going on at the club that day -- a wedding reception, retirement parties -- and it was a holiday weekend.

NOVA: When did you realize that there was a fire?

Bohannon: Well, about 8:30 p.m., I got into the Cabaret Room. A show was scheduled to start at 9 o'clock. I had a lot of work to do, making sure my tables were set up in time. Therefore I wasn't really tuned in to everything that was going on, because I was trying to handle my business. About 9 o'clock, I was really hustling, trying to get a first round of drinks out. I had gone back to the bar, which conveniently was right beside an exit doorway. And I was going through the procedure: filling up my glasses with ice and preparing them to run through the bartender's line.

There was nobody in the bar, which I thought was a little strange, but still early in the evening with all that was going on. I figured that somebody was either working somewhere else or chit-chatting somewhere, that they would probably be back any minute. As I was setting up my glasses, I could hear people in what was an employee hallway which ran alongside the bar. I could hear what was obviously customers, which was unusual. Customers were never back there. Some of the hallways you would expect maybe to see customers in, because the club was like a maze, so it wasn't unusual for someone to be looking for a bathroom and end up in other hallways. But not in this one.

I overheard someone somewhat casually saying, "I don't know, somebody said it was a fire. I think we better get out of here." Again, I say casually, because there was no alarm in the voice. I thought to myself, "What's going on?" I was not alarmed by any means, and I started to turn around and go on with my business. Then I thought to myself, "No, I'll just walk out the door for a second. If nothing's wrong, I'll be back in just a moment."

So I reached and picked up my purse, which was in an area right by the door where the waitresses kept their purses. Then I just turned and walked right out the door. It was literally seconds after when all hell broke loose. There were maybe 30 people ahead of me going down an outside metal stairway that led down to the ground from this doorway.

My first recollection was black smoke just pouring over my head, and I think I was only about one or two steps down from the platform. Smoke just billowing over my shoulders. That led to somewhat of a rush of people trying to get down the stairs. And I remember that before I was even all the way down the stairs, this huge burst of flame that was so forceful, and smoke and so forth, just shot out of that doorway. People began to scramble to get out.

NOVA: How many more people do you think got out after you?

Bohannon: I'm not sure. My guess would be maybe only another 20 or 30. I've read a report that said that only maybe 60 got out that door, but I don't know about the reliability of that. There weren't too many more that got out. There were a lot of people still in the doorway who were trying to exit, but it became such a mess there, people were becoming entangled with one another. From what I recall, there was a metal section in the middle of that doorway, and one individual had his legs trapped around that. So it became very chaotic right there at that exit. A lot of people were there but could not get out, because the fire spread so rapidly. People were becoming overcome with smoke and hung up with each other. Some people were pulled from the exit, but I remember just watching a lot of them die right there in the doorway.

NOVA: It sounds like it was within seconds from when you overheard someone casually say, "I think there's a fire," to when you got out and it was completely out of control. Do you have a sense of how long it really took for that to happen?

Bohannon: I can't honestly say that I have a true grasp on what the amount of time was. But I know it was a very, very short period of time. If not seconds, literally a few minutes. That was one of the devastating things about that entire incident -- it was just so quick it was hard to believe. Seconds can make such a major difference. Like I said, I had no idea whatsoever when I walked out that door.

The fire raged through most of the night. The following day, the club was but a charred skeleton.
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NOVA: Did you lose anyone close to you in the fire?

Bohannon: Yes, I lost three friends, two women who were also cocktail waitresses in the Cabaret Room, and a male bartender. Within that next week, or week and a half, I guess I attended ten funerals, one right after another. It was very hard. And my father married that day and was in there that evening. He and his new bride were sitting in my station. I expected them to come out the same doorway, but they were escorted out the other side of the building. It was probably three hours before we found each other. It was a very horrible thing for both of us to have to go through. I spent most of the evening walking around to the different entrances and closely examining all of the bodies trying to find him.

NOVA: How did you react during the fire? Did you panic?

Bohannon: I was very calm when I exited the building. I was even pretty calm as I got to the bottom of the steps and realized that people were starting to get stuck in that doorway. However, once I began to think of my father, that's when panic developed, because I could see that people were not able to get out of this doorway. A moment came when I just completely lost it, and I tried to go back into the building. One of the waitresses grabbed me and punched me so hard that she literally knocked me to the ground.

To this day, I'm very thankful she did that. If she hadn't, there's no telling what kind of stupid, foolish thing I might have done. It knocked some sense into me, and all of a sudden I realized, "No, you can't do this." Fortunately, several hours later my father and I did find each other. A very happy moment, I might add.

NOVA: Did you as employees ever have fire drills or any instructions on how to handle a fire?

Bohannon: Not when I was there. I had no knowledge of anything like that ever taking place. The club was quite large, it was like a maze. It wasn't unusual for customers to get lost, just trying to find a rest room. Even as a new employee, it took me a long time to learn my way around; there were just so many hallways. I'm sure that that greatly contributed to a lot of the deaths. I know that people in the fire did back into a lot of hallways and closets not knowing where they were going, especially when the lights went out.

NOVA: How did you recover emotionally?

Bohannon: It took me, I would say, an entire decade to really overcome every way that it affected me. A lot of the individuals who were affected never discussed it with their family members. I've talked to a lot of people over the years, and it's just amazing how many of them just closed up; they didn't talk to anyone about it. I think that really harmed a lot of these people. I had a close group of friends who also went through it, and we stuck together very closely for quite awhile. We saw each other, tried to hold each other up. We all went through some bad times, some of us very depressed, alcoholic, suicidal, just a combination of everything trying to cope with it.

Seven of us that were still remaining did something that turned into a positive experience, however. Two of our friends who passed away, Terry and Rose, had eight children between them. Both were divorced and had no income coming in, so we got together and organized a benefit concert and some benefit dinners and so forth. And we ended up raising quite a bit of money, which we turned into this huge trust fund. It eventually involved some 200 children that lost one or both parents in the fire. This helped pull us out of the low spots and keep our minds occupied. We kept in close touch for a long time.

Having somebody to talk with about the experience made a big difference. You could talk to a psychologist all day long, but if that person had not actually experienced something like that, they just couldn't understand. It's not something that most individuals have encountered in their lifetime, fortunately. All the nice words in the world just don't make as much difference as one person truly understanding.

NOVA: What advice would you offer for people who find themselves in a fire?

Bohannon: Don't hesitate. I mean, we get tornado sirens going off here occasionally. I can remember the day when I would just say, "Ah, it'll be over in a minute." Now, if I hear a fire alarm or a tornado siren, if I hear any sort of warning whatsoever, I react so quickly I don't even think about it. I don't run, and I don't panic, but I just instantly exit the building or whatever I have to do. I know what it can mean if you ignore it or even delay doing something like that.

I would also strongly recommend that you be aware of your environment. Try to at least pay some attention to things such as exit signs or doorways or whatever. I have an office at the university that is on the 10th floor, and our elevators always used to break down, so I developed a preference for the stairway. I'd take those stairs with my eyes closed, and I'd count as I was holding onto the railing. I know somebody might say that I'm a little off the deep end, but I just felt like this is one extra tool on my belt should I ever need it. It doesn't hurt to develop those little tools.

NOVA: So when you go into a public building now, you look for the escapes? Do you think about how you would get out?

Bohannon: I have to be honest, the farther the fire gets from my mind, the easier it gets to not focus on things like that. But I still do it to a great extent, try to consciously remind myself, whether I'm in an airplane, a building, or whatever, to at least have some idea of how to get out. And whenever I travel I always carry a flashlight with me -- one in my carry-on bag on the airplane, one in my suitcase -- just to help you get down steps if the power goes out, for instance. Even a little thing like an electrical problem without the risk of a great fire could still cause a lot of damage and a lot of injuries, just because of the way people tend to react.

NOVA: Are you careful about fire safety in your home today?

Bohannon: I have to kick myself, because I sleep on the second floor of a two-story home, and I haven't properly done what I should do about escaping from the second floor. I know I should find some kind of ladder to throw out the window, but I've never done that. And sadly enough, we have smoke alarms that sometimes get a little crazy, and we take the battery out and forget to put it back in. I think it's unavoidable, you know. No matter how much people try, it's very hard to keep it at the forefront of your mind all the time.

NOVA: What are you doing now?

Bohannon: I'm in graduate school, in the Department of Sociology at the University of Cincinnati. I've become very interested in sociology. One thing that I walked away with after experiencing the fire is that I feel strongly that researchers need to do more research on that sort of thing. I'm very interested in the social forces affect groups as opposed to individuals. We put so much emphasis on the individual, on the individual's psychological state of mind, but I know from talking over the years to so many people that went through fires, it's amazing the change that occurs within small groups such as families, how their social ties become drastically changed -- you know, a victim being blamed by a family member because he or she survived, for example. It seems to me that there has not been enough attention given to that level of treatment.

NOVA: Any advice to people who haven't gone through such an experience?

Bohannon: I would have to strongly recommend that people -- well, that you appreciate your life, the fact that you're walking on this Earth. I used to be not very ambitious, but I really have a zest for life now, because this fire gave me a true appreciation of how precious life is. And it gave me motivation to do something with it. Unfortunately, I don't think we have to go through something like that to discover we can be appreciative of life.

What many of us take for granted - sprinklers, well-lit exits, well-designed hallways - came the hard way, motivated by the indelible images of rolling black smoke and bodies stacked floor to ceiling in narrow exits.

''Never again'' was almost a mantra after the nationally acclaimed nightclub burned atop a hill in Southgate on May 28, 1977 - 25 years ago this coming Tuesday. The horrifying images - spread across the nation via live television and newspaper photographs - led to a revolution in how to prevent fires and protect people once they occurred.

Tougher fire codes. Strict inspections. More flame-retardant products. Required smoke detectors. More sprinklers. More and better marked exits. Improved electrical wiring. Threats of lawsuits.

''While the loss of life was tragic, it was not in vain,'' said Jeff Johnson, a fire chief in Oregon who has studied the Beverly Hills fire like a textbook.

Ken Meredith, deputy com missioner of the Kentucky Department of Housing, Buildings & Construction, is more blunt: ''The Beverly Hills fire has saved thousands and thousands of lives.''

But immediately after the blaze, it was impossible to view it as anything but horrid.

In a span of minutes, a warm, gorgeous Saturday on a Memorial Day weekend turned tragic at the ''Showplace of the Nation.'' The club was jammed with an estimated 2,600 people in a partying mood. Many were there to enjoy singer John Davidson, while others were attending private dinners.

About 9 p.m., a fire that had been smoldering in the ceiling of the club's unoccupied Zebra Room roared with astonishing speed down a hallway and into the huge Cabaret Room, where a couple of comedians were warming up the crowd before Davidson's appearance.

Black smoke and toxic fumes pushed by the roaring flames filled the club, killing 165 people. All but two of the victims died in massive piles near two exits leading from the cavernous Cabaret Room, less than 30 feet from safety.

The circumstances that created the nightmare - including lax inspections, bad wiring and flammable furnishings - have become watchwords in the fire prevention industry.

Now, experts say, the 25th anniversary of the fire can be commemorated by a legacy of life - an unknown number of people who are alive today because of lessons learned from Beverly Hills.

Those lessons have been studied across the country for the past quarter-century.

''The Beverly Hills fire is one of those handful of fires nationwide that are used to teach fire students, chiefs and marshals some critical lessons about fire behavior and crowd behavior,'' said Johnson, fire chief of the Tualatin Valley Fire and Rescue near Portland, Ore.

''The first lesson is the inevitability of tragedy and large numbers of deaths if you don't have built-in fire protection like smoke control systems, sprinklers and exits.

''Inadequate exits was a huge factor in the loss of life at Beverly Hills. There were stacks of victims in front of exits. Once the fire started, there wasn't adequate warning. Fire and smoke grew and blocked people's exits.''

Employees tried but failed to extinguish the fire before many people were told of the fire.

''Another shortcoming at Beverly Hills was inadequate inspections,'' Johnson said. ''Had proper procedures been followed, the fire might not have ever started.''

Not much of what Johnson says is new - the fire was studied and restudied by investigators, juries and others. But its lessons are important to recall, if for no other reason, to avoid complacency when it comes to fire protection, he said.

''If we don't apply the lessons we've learned and if we don't hold people accountable when fire prevention systems are ignored or circumvented, then we haven't come very far,'' Johnson cautioned.

Attorneys like Stan Chesley of Cincinnati stand ready to enforce that notion.

''Beverly Hills has led to a safer society,'' said Chesley, who pioneered the use of class-action, mass tort lawsuits in the wake of the fire.

Chesley, who sued dozens of manufacturers of products that burned in the Beverly Hills fire, says the blaze led to ''a whole new understanding of what spreads fires.''

''We now have more flame retardant material,'' he pointed out. ''Foam rubber has virtually disappeared. Major changes have been made in carpets and drapes to make them less flammable. Old-style aluminum wiring is gone.

''More importantly, sprinklers have become widespread over the past 25 years. Beverly Hills had no sprinklers. Sprinklers are now everywhere and nobody thinks about it.''

Because of Chesley, Beverly Hills also set a legal precedent.

''It was the first class-action lawsuit in a mass tort,'' Chesley said of the legal work that resulted in settlements of $50 million for relatives of victims. ''We've done the same thing in a lot of cases since then.''

Chesley recalled how he was ''criticized like I was some kind of ghoul'' for digging through Beverly Hills debris searching for evidence.

''The state of Kentucky wouldn't let me investigate, and I had to get a federal judge to let me do it,'' he said. ''That's how we found the aluminum wiring and other evidence.''

Southgate Fire Chief John Beatsch, who fought the Beverly Hills fire as a 21-year-old fire lieutenant, said the 165 deaths changed how firefighters are trained - and the strategy at fire scenes.

''Prior to Beverly Hills, when you planned for a fire in a big building, you thought about how to attack the fire,'' he said. ''You assumed everybody in the building would know about the fire right away and be out.

''Before Beverly Hills, there was not a whole lot of disaster planning for rescuing people. Since Beverly Hills, there's been a big emphasis on rescuing people.''

Beatsch recalled that when firefighters arrived at Beverly Hills, they were surprised that hundreds of people were still in the burning building.

''We were overwhelmed with the number of people who needed help,'' he said. ''We had never planned for that.''

Beatsch also said that fire prevention inspection shortcomings at Beverly Hills taught local fire departments not to take anything for granted.

''Being a 'Podunk' fire department, we assumed that if the state approved something, there would be no problems with it,'' he said. ''Inspections have improved dramatically since Beverly Hills.''

Julian Carroll, governor of Kentucky at the time of the fire, shook up the state's fire inspection bureaucracy in the wake of the tragedy.

He created the Kentucky Department of Housing, Buildings & Construction, with the state fire marshal's office a part of the department.

Fire prevention and building remodeling inspections at Beverly Hills had been lax.

''There was strong indication of some political shenanigans going on that may well have contributed to the catastrophe,'' recalled Carroll, now 71 and a Frankfort attorney. ''We needed to get away from political favoritism.

''For the past 25 years, we've had a very professionally run Department of Housing. The department has really concentrated on keeping our codes up to national standards and making certain those codes are enforced.''

Meredith, deputy commissioner of the department, said Beverly Hills was ''a benchmark, a reference point'' for improved fire protection.

''One of the greatest things that has happened because of better inspections is an increased public awareness of fire prevention,'' he said. ''Smoke detectors, for instance, have become a normal part of our lives.''

Despite all the improvements prompted by the fire, Ken Paul, who was the 30-year-old mayor of Southgate at the time of the blaze, said one problem still concerns him - controlling crowd size.

''I think building capacity and crowd control will always be a problem,'' said Paul, who later became Campbell County judge-executive. ''You didn't see capacity signs at the time of the Beverly Hills fire, and you see them today.

''But how many of us are guilty of thinking, 'Well, we can squeeze a couple of more people in.'

''Alarms and sprinklers are important, but to me, capacity and crowd control are keys to safety that will always be a struggle to achieve.''

Wayne Dammert, the banquet captain at Beverly Hills 25 years ago, estimates there were 2,600 people in the club the night of the fire, about twice as many as what the popular night spot could safely accommodate.

''At the time, nobody ever said, 'Hey, this is not right. This is overcrowded,' '' Dammert said. ''Everybody just went on having a good time at Beverly Hills.''

There were no more good times at Beverly Hills after May 28, 1977; the club died along with the 165 victims.

The lessons the fire taught came in the wake of a death toll that still is difficult to comprehend.

''Yes, a lot of lessons have been learned from Beverly Hills,'' acknowledged Beatsch, the Southgate fire chief. ''Unfortunately, it was a very tragic event we went through to learn the lessons

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