On May 28, 1977, Southgate’s Beverly Hills Supper Club was destroyed by fire, taking with it the lives of 167 people and changing the surrounding communities and, indeed, the nation forever.
I lived in a town just over the hill and a minute away from the night club. I was 16 and remember that night like it was yesterday. I remember the wailing of sirens all night long, how I picked up the crackly urgency of confused and panicky police and fire personnel on my scanner, and the massive explosion I saw when I went up on the avenue to see what was going on. I remember the refrigerated trucks that carried the dead to the makeshift morgue, my mom’s friend who was in labor and turned away from our local hospital which was closed, the kids from school who volunteered to help whose pictures were in the paper, walking among the debris and the dead.
I was an active volunteer for the Committee for Fort Thomas in high school and knew most of the city officials, in addition to the two physicians who acted as coroner and deputy coroner in the days and weeks that followed the fire. Our town was pretty close-knit; even though we had 15,000 or more folks living within the city limits, it was uncommon to run into someone you either didn’t know. I knew a lot of people who volunteered to work at the fire or who were first responders and a whole lot more who were affected by it. And I saw how, over time, fire codes and laws were changed within the community and, by extension, in the rest of the country.
What Happened and How Fire Codes were Changed
The death toll and physical destruction of this fire doesn’t come close statistically to many other tragedies in the US. But the changes it inspired for the safety of all of us were monumental and far-reaching. And the lessons learned were some that should continue to be taught and reiterated and continue to inform. Instead, I’m afraid, the lessons were never incorporated into peoples’ thinking at all, and for some, lessons learned were never taught.
Now, after 43 years, plans are moving forward for the development of the 80-acre site. Proposals made in the past were met with disapproval, but both the planning commission and several survivors have given the go-ahead, with some survivors demanding a couple of changes before work begins. Included in the plans are high-end single- and multi-family homes, luxury apartments, a for-profit assisted living facility, a neighborhood park, and a memorial for the victims of the fire. In the original/current plans, the memorial is planned to be under the control of the HOA and not accessible to the public. This is of primary concern to the survivors and many have said they will not support the project unless the memorial is made public. Another thing some would like to see – and honestly, it is quite surprising to me to hear that this is even a concern – is a sweep of the area to make sure there are no more human remains on the grounds.
Although I certainly understand the desire and push to develop such a large area of land, I am really just appalled that there would be the choice to plan luxury living spaces and a for-profit facility on the land where so many lost their lives. It feels enormously disrespectful to the suffering and to those that died there. At minimum, I would have hoped that the area where the building and surrounding grounds were would be developed into a simple public memorial and, at most, a museum or other space to tell the story and to serve as a place of education.
The Grey Zone 