On August 15, 2024, Jack Russell, the lead singer of 80’s hair band Great White passed away. He had a long somewhat middling career, playing arenas at one point before downgrading to clubs, bars and smaller venues. In that way, his life was not much different than many other artists from his era, as society at large moved away from his particular style of glam rock and left him clinging to past glory. Nobody blames him for that, once you play stadiums, it is hard to start working at Staples. There are people who still do blame him, however, for the events of one cold snowbound night in the working class town of West Warwick, Rhode Island, back in February of 2003. It was a night that was supposed to be an evening of fun, a pressure-reliever from the workaday life, a gathering of true rock fans in a dumpy bar known as The Station. It would turn out to be a night of pure unmitigated hell, as a litany of bad choices aligned to exact it’s toll in the form of burned flesh, choked lungs and lingering agony the likes of which the close-knit community of West Warwick had never known.
Like many towns in America, West Warwick began with heavy industry. It was home to some of the earliest textile mills in the United States. It’s a hardscrabble place where people work for a living. You won’t find the Bridgehampton crowd there. The Station was originally a gin mill, built in 1946. Through the years, it changed hands and forms, until it was bought by Jeff and Michael Derderian in the early 2000s. For many reasons, both men would regret owning the club. It was a side business that wasn’t profitable. It was clearly too small to be a big music venue but that did not stop the brothers from cramming in as many people as possible, which to be fair, was allowed given their legal capacity. When the neighbors complained about the noise, they installed non-flame retardant egg-crate foam. They claimed that they did not know any better. The fire marshal had come by and did not notice the foam, despite it being everywhere. When Great White came to play, the band brought pyrotechnic gerbs in order to give off that WWE pyro vibe that used to be so common in the hair band heyday. The corners were cut, and to use an unintentional pun, the stage was set, for something truly terrible to happen.
February 20, 2003 was a cold night, with snow still on the ground. It was warm inside however, as Great White, famous for “Once Bitten…Twice Shy” took the stage at 11:07pm. The song was “Desert Moon” and band manager Daniel Biechele ignited the pyro, shooting flame 15 feet into the air. He was not certified to use pyrotechnics. The band played, and the 460 people inside gathered close, tightly packed as the first cords were played. Some in the crowd noticed that the flames from the pyro seemed to be long lasting, not going out, and clambering up the wall of the drummer’s alcove. Brian Butler, who ironically was there as a TV cameraman filming a video on fire safety in nightclubs, described the early scene:
“ As soon as the pyrotechnics stopped, the flame had started on the egg crate backing behind the stage, and it just went up the ceiling. And people stood and watched it, and some people backed off. When I turned around, some people were already trying to leave, and others were just sitting there going, “Yes, that’s great!” And I remember that statement, because I was, like, this is not great. This is the time to leave.” There is a lesson here, dear reader. If something seems off, go with your gut.
He continued his story.
“At first, there was no panic. Everybody just kind of turned. Most people still just stood there. In the other rooms, the smoke hadn’t gotten to them, the flame wasn’t that bad, they didn’t think anything of it. Well, I guess once we all started to turn toward the door, and we got bottlenecked into the front door, people just kept pushing, and eventually everyone popped out of the door, including myself.”
That door scene will live in infamy. Because The Station had such a narrow entryway, and that was the way that most people entered the building, the increasingly panicked crowd tried to squeeze through the thin passage. The result was something out of a Lovecraftian horror, a literal pile of people, with their heads sticking out of the doorway, hopelessly trapped while being burned alive. They were right there, they could be seen (and videoed) but nobody could get them out. One man at the very bottom of the pile managed to survive, against all odds, as those above him burned.
The foam was described as liquid gasoline. It burned quickly and easily and within just a few minutes the thick black smoke descended on the panicked crowd and mercifully caused some to die of smoke inhalation. For those who did not die that way, death would not come easy. There exists a video of the fire, taken by Brian Butler, and it can easily be found on YouTube. I will not link to it, because having watched it, I am forever changed. It is nothing short of horrific. It is used by first responders to see fire behavior. It features the dying screams of the trapped. There is also an audiotape so awful that the lawyer who has it has stated that it will never be released. People burned alive, in pitch darkness, while burning liquefied foam dripped on their bodies. Jack Russell, in the eyes of many, had much to answer for.
In the end, 100 people died that night. They had gathered for a night of rock and roll and met a terrible end. Jack Russell never did take direct responsibility for the incident, letting his band manager take the fall instead. He was the one who lit the pyro after all, but many feel that Jack should have known. What is known is that Jack was haunted by the event for years to come, and to his credit, he hosted benefit concerts for the victims and their families. In a documentary written about in the Boston Globe, he is quoted as saying, “There are certainly times I wish I would have died in that fire, and there are people I know who wish I would have, too.” Perhaps this is why, when Jack passed, a Facebook page for the fire hosted mixed reactions. “As a survivor of the club fire I have mixed emotions I’m sorry for the family’s loss,” wrote Johnathan Holt. Another poster wrote, “It was a strange feeling to see his passing, knowing about his musical accomplishments but also the legacy of the Station fire. I also immediately thought of the survivors and the families of those who died when I saw the news.” It seems the final verdict on Jack Russell is up to each person impacted by this tragedy.
Daniel Biechele went to prison for his role in the fire and has since been released. He was very contrite and many viewed his remorse as genuine. Some families even advocated on his behalf.
‘’I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive myself for what happened that night, so I can’t expect anyone else to,’’ he said, his lower lip quivering. ‘’I never wanted anyone to be hurt in any way. I never imagined that anyone ever would be,” he said, sobbing, according to the Cape Cod Times.
Michael Derderian went to prison and his brother served probation and community service.
There are things to be learned from this sad event. Concertgoers should always know where the exits are (and so should anyone else in a crowded area). If needed to escape a dangerous situation, break a window right away. Don’t ignite large flames indoors in small spaces or tolerate those who do. Above all else, trust your instincts, and if something seems wrong, act fast and decisively.
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Sources: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/the-station-nightclub-rhode-island-fire-deaths-owners/ , https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Station_nightclub_fire , Killer Show by John Barylick
Want to help the victims, many of whom still suffer from horrific burns: https://www.thestationfirememorialfoundation.org/support/