Debra Francis Ingersoll

I have never written anything down about that night, so I guess it's past time. My husband and I were 23 years old. We went with another couple to see John Davidson. My husband didn't care about him, but I thought he was dreamy. So, my husband was doing this for me. We went down early and had dinner before the show like most people did at the Beverly. Dressed in our finest. It was to be a very special night. And, as it turns out, it certainly was.

After dinner, we headed to the Cabaret Room. It was so crowded. We noticed some empty seats near the stage and tried to bribe the maitre d to seat us there, but he told us those seats were reserved for a senior citizens group. As it turns out, he may have helped saved our lives, because it was some of those people who never got a chance to get out. Some died still sitting at those tables. We were seated further back where they were just bringing in chairs and putting them anywhere. In the aisles, or wherever they could squeeze them in. It was incredibly packed. We ordered a drink, and waited for the show. I remember remarking to my husband, that it was so crowded in here that if there was ever a fire, everybody would never be able to get out. I actually said that.

The comedian came on and I remember him being pretty funny. I noticed it was getting pretty smoky, but attributed that to cigarette smoke since people smoked in public places back then. Little did I know. I remarked to my husband that maybe I should visit the lady's room before John Davidson came on because I sure didn't want to miss any of that. However, before I got the chance, the busboy came on stage. Another thing that may have saved my life, because had I gone to the rest room I would have headed directly towards the fire. And my husband would never have left the building without me. So we both would have been in even bigger trouble.
Anyway, the busboy said there was a "small kitchen fire" and it would be best if we made our way to the nearest exit. I know it sounds funny, but somehow, the way it was done, we really thought for a minute, it was part of the comedian's act. When we realized it wasn't, our next conversation was, should we leave our drinks? Or take them with us? We decided to leave them, thinking we would be right back in pretty quickly once they got the small kitchen fire under control. After all, the kitchen was at the other side of the building.

So we got up and joined the line leading out of the building. I remember having to go up a couple of steps, turn right and head back to the left of the stage. It was orderly, people were laughing and joking. Nobody was concerned or panicked. Some people were still sitting trying to decide if they were even going to bother evacuating. Especially the older ones down front where mobility was probably an issue. I remember looking back towards the back of the room where the door led into the corridor, and seeing black smoke entering the back of the room. That's when we began to realize that this was real. Everybody, began to realize. The pushing began. The lights were still on at that point, something else that saved us. We could still see that instead of heading straight out, this exit turned sharply to the left before it led out double doors. We were essentially pushed from behind out the doors. We headed away from the building down an embankment that seemed like an excavation ditch. There were a few people laying on the ground. Including, later, a woman in labor. I turned to speak to my husband, but....he wasn't behind me any longer. I couldn't spot him. Unbeknownst to me, the firemen were yelling for volunteers to come and help. My husband simply turned and went. I just didn't know it. I was terrified. We were still with the other couple we came with, and so he told us girls to stay put, and he would go look for my husband. He came back to us again and again but couldn't find my husband. I was convinced he hadn't followed me out.

What he was actually doing was helping to drag people out of the doors where they had stacked up once the lights in the Cabaret room went out, and people couldn't find their way out anymore. They would just grab arms and legs, drag the people out, and line them up on the grass. Until the fire chief yelled that the roof was about to collapse and they had to get away from the building. About that time, there was a huge explosion. Fire went what looked like hundreds of feet into the air, and we knew any rescue was over. I, however still didn't know that my husband had gotten out of the building. I was screaming and crying hysterically, convinced I just witnessed his death. At 23.

However, he was still helping. He was following the doctor around. The doctor was going down the lines of people checking for life. If they were dead, they covered their faces with whatever they could, like a suit jacket

Finally, after about two hours of thinking I had lost my husband, he trudged down the hill to me. I immediately collapsed.

We waited a while longer until finally someone told us to go around to the front of the now burning building where they had buses to take us to downtown Cincinnati to telephones where we could call someone to come and get us. My husband lead me away from the area where the bodies were because he wanted to protect me from that sight. I never saw them.

We couldn't remove our cars from the parking lot because the long driveway leading to the building was full of emergency equipment. My little 67 Mustang convertible was left in the lot.

We arrived (I really can't remember where, but am thinking it was the bus station??) and was able to use the phones. I will never forget making that call to my parents. My Mother had answered the phone. Little did I know that she had been watching the evening news, and an announcement came on the TV that the Beverly Hills Supper Club was burning, and they didn't know yet if there were any survivors. Then it went back to regular programming leaving my mother blankly staring at the TV. She woke my dad up, and they tried to get more information, but in those days, there wasn't any internet! They just had to watch TV until somebody came on to tell them something. They called the neighbors over to sit with them. People were close in those days. By the time I got to a phone, they had been sitting, paralyzed for a couple of hours. When my Mom answered my call, the first thing I said was ,"Mom, we're ok." She however, couldn't say a word. All I could hear on the other end was sobs. It was the worst sound I had ever heard. I'll never forget it. My Dad took the phone, and we were able to tell him that we had a ride home with a parent of one of the people we were with. My Mom wanted us to come straight to their house, but I remember telling her that we just had to go home and go to bed first. We were completely, thoroughly exhausted. Physically and emotionally. We were done. So I promised to come first thing the next morning so she could squeeze me. My husband and our friend went back the next day where they had to retrieve our cars. Funny thing, our friend went on to become a fireman, and then a fire chief. Ironic, yes? Maybe not.

So. That's what I remember. It took a long time before my poor husband, who saw more grisly sights than I did, could sleep through the night. He still doesn't speak of it to this day. But, we were lucky. We got out. We survived. And after nearly 41 years of marriage, we are still lucky. He still protects me when he can, and I still co

And that is my story.

by Debra Francis Ingersoll, writing on Facebook