An Unbelievable Horror

ast Spring, I was given the chance to be a part of the LampLite Theatre’s production of A Texas Tragedy. The play is based on a true story and it is so incredibly powerful, it touched me in a very special way and I will always be grateful for the chance to take part in it. It makes me sad to think that so few people know about it, and I hope that one day everybody in America will know the story.

It was a normal day at the New London Junior-Senior High on the afternoon of March 18, 1937. Students prepared to go home for the day, and parents met in the school gym for a PTA meeting. Unbeknownst to all, one of the worst tragedies in Texas history was about to unfold. At approximately 3:05 pm, one of the teachers turned on a sanding machine in the basement and faster than you can blink your eye, it was all gone. A gas pipe in the wall had ruptured, filling the air with gas and at the flip of a switch the school went up in a cloud of dust and heaven received an estimated 400 innocent children.

Children who would have been out of that building in 30 minutes. Children who were supposed to have grown up, gotten married, started a family. The children of parents whose hearts were broken that day.

Terror filled the small town. Sirens were heard, mingled with the sounds of mothers screaming. Workers in a nearby oil field rushed to the scene and immediately began to organize rescue squads to wade through the debris and bring back the bodies of children and what survivors could possibly be saved. The rough miners transformed from crude and dirty to the angels that saved the lives of the wounded. As the workers filed slowly out of the school grounds, 17 hours after the explosion, they were saluted by the Texas State Guard.

I played a teenage girl whose sister died and attended the makeshift school set up in a vacant field as it struggled to finish out the year. I never got through a rehearsal or a performance without crying; – I suppose that just shows how emotional I get. "I lost my sister...she was fifteen years old. Sometimes, I go into her room, and just look at her bed and her things. But she's not there, and she's never coming back! The preacher says she better off in heaven, but I'm not sure I understand that. Maybe I will someday, but I wish I had my sister back!"

One of the most memorable moments was when we got to meet actual survivors of the New London School Explosion. One elderly lady told us that she was sent home early as punishment for some school-related offense and just happened to turn around the instant the school exploded. She saw people – classmates, teachers – thrown a hundred feet in the air and crushed by falling debris and only narrowly escaped being flattened by a two-ton slab of concrete.

This is not intended to depress anyone or make them feel guilty, or anything else, but just something to think about. There is a wonderful museum in New London commemorating the Explosion, which my family visited yesterday morning. I hope to return again soon. The tour guide himself had a personal connection to the 1937 Explosion; his 14 year old sister died that day. I learned some valuble things yesterday: we aren’t promised tomorrow. You never know when our world can come crashing down around us. Make the most of the rest of this day, and give thanks to God for pulling you through!

















Erma Gene Williams, 12 years, "How desolate our home, bereft of thee."


Visit nlse.org for more information.