“The Night the Cooksville Opera House Burned Down” (Part One) by Larry Reed

The night of December 5, 1893, was a night of loss and lament in Cooksville—the Opera House burned down! The Opera House building was the first important building to be lost¬¬¬¬ in Cooksville. Known as Van Vleck’s Hall (it was enlarged by the man who owned the Van Vleck Implement Factory nearby), the building housed Van Patten’s and Newkirk’s Meat Market on the main floor and the Cooksville Opera House on the second floor. Erected about 1845 as a merchandise store, it was one of the oldest landmarks and served multiple purposes on the northern corner of Main and Dane streets, east of the present General Store At the time of the fire, the second-floor Opera House was being used by Dr. Red Wolf for his lectures and entertainments. He had a large display of rare coins, medicines, “curiosities” and “paraphernalia,” as well as musical instruments used by himself and his two assistants. Not one article of his was rescued from the devastating fire. The neighboring Evansville Enterprise newspaper didn’t think much of the little village’s fiery disaster. In fact, the Enterprise thought the loss was an occasion for humor and took surprisingly great pleasure in reporting the “Cooksville Conflagration,” with its tongue firmly planted in its cheek, which did not please Cooksvillians. Excerpts from the newspaper story illustrate this lame, late-19th century attempt at humor: “The Opera House block, better known as the Cooksville auditorium, was totally destroyed by fire this morning. The building was a large two-story structure on the corner of Main street and Waucoma avenue. The fire was supposed to have originated in the boiler room of VanPatten & Newkirks Lard Rendering establishment, which occupied the first floor of the entire building. The Opera Hall covered the second story. “Fire Warden Whaley was first to discover the blaze, and after partaking of an early breakfast promptly called out the entire department, but the fire was beyond control before they got there with the “Invigorated Squirt” ready for action. “With a degree of forethought worthy of better cause, Mr. E.T. Stoneburner suggested the hook and ladder company, an organization of which everyone seemed to be justly proud. Some delay ensued in trying to find the janitor of the Pioneer Hook and Ladder Company No. 1’s building, but at last he was secured after he had gone home for the key. Mr. Stoneburner then ran swiftly down the street to awaken the foreman, but after he had dressed himself carefully and inquired anxiously about the fire, he said he was the foreman since the 2nd of April. On the streets was all confusion. The hoarse cry of fire had been taken up by the excited crowd and passed from one to another until it had swollen into a dull roar. The cry of fire in a small town is always a grand sight. As the devouring elements burst through the roof of the building, the spectators whose early education had not been neglected could plainly read the sign of our esteemed fellow-townsman, E.M. Stebbins, which was lit up by the red glare of the flames so that the letters stood out as follows: Meantime the fire fiend continued to rise up and ever and anon on its hind feet and lick up chicken crate after chicken crate, in close proximity to the doomed building.” (End of Part One. To be continued.)