Diane Fortuna is the author of the cross-generational narratives Cent’anni! and They Were Legal: Balzac y Lopez The History of an Hispanic Family New York 1901-1960, which includes the story of her ancestor Daisy Lopez Fitze, one of the 146 workers who died in the Triangle fire in New York on March 25, 1911. She died in 2017. (Photo credit: Annie Lanzillotto)
Diane Fortuna è l’autrice delle narrazioni intergenerazionali Cent’anni! e They Were Legal: Balzac y Lopez The History of an Hispanic Family New York 1901-1960, che include la storia della sua antenata Daisy Lopez Fitze, una delle 146 lavoratrici morte nell’incendio del Triangle fire a New York, il 25 marzo 1911. È morta nel 2017. (Photo credit: Annie Lanzillotto)
They Were Legal; Balzac y Lopez The History of an Hispanic Family NY 1901-1960
From A Flower for Daisy, Part 1, Chapter 3
We have wonderful pictures of the Lopez offspring, but the most charming is a studio portrait of Daisy in formal dress taken in New York, ca. 1909. It may well be an engagement picture. Her wavy upswept brown hair frames her round face. Her ample shoulders are bare, and a tulle scarf, held in place by two large silk roses, softens the decolletage of her gown. Her eyes are dark and serene, her mouth wide and generous. Soon after she came to New York, Daisy took a job as a practical nurse in Long Beach on the Jersey shore. In the only other photograph of her — taken at a convalescent home — she stands to the right of a group of co-workers in striped shirtwaists, white lace collars and long white skirts, some sitting on the sand in front of a columned courtyard. Like Louise, Daisy has a dimpled chin, but unlike either of her sisters, she is stocky and buxom. According to the 1910 Census taken in April of that year, Daisy was living in a boarding house at 13 Charlton Street south of Greenwich Village and working as a stenographer in an insurance office. Her sweetness attracted the attention of another boarder, a young Swiss hotel tradesman and bartender, Henry Bertram Fitze. They fell in love and, after a brief courtship, married at the Spring Street Presbyterian Church on January 15, 1911.
For years, Fitze had dreamed of buying and managing his own inn, and like many immigrants, he wanted to return to his native land and buy property there. Soon after they married, Daisy and he agreed that he should go to Switzerland alone, roughing it to save money until he found the right place. Once Henry accomplished that, he would send for her. At most, they would be separated for a few months. He sailed at the beginning of March. By May, at the latest, they would be together again.
Though her husband had left her with sufficient money, Daisy felt lonely with him gone and, having time on her hands, decided to earn a few extra dollars. Thrifty and conscientious, Daisy planned on living on her salary, thereby keeping her small nest egg intact for their future needs. She saw an ad calling for garment workers at a downtown factory. Like all the Lopez girls, she sewed proficiently and had no difficulty landing the job near Washington Square. The factory occupied the top three floors of the Asch Building (now owned by New York University). She could easily walk from Charlton Street, just south of Houston Street, to work.
One Saturday in early spring — it was March 25, 1911 — Daisy left for work hopefully. She was young and pretty. A bride of almost ten weeks, she loved and was loved in return. Soon she would be sailing to Europe to start a new life. The world lay all before her.
Daisy Lopez Fitze never came home from the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory. When the fire broke out on the eighth floor of the Asch Building shortly before quitting time, she had just picked up her paycheck. Within minutes, the ninth floor where new hires worked was also engulfed in flames. The windows shattered and blew out from the heat. Panic ensued. There seemed to be nowhere to go: the elevators jammed, at least one of the doors to the narrow stairwells was locked and the inadequate iron fire escape literally melted. In desperation, workers perched on the window ledges high above the street. As the flames and smoke swiftly and relentlessly advanced toward them, girls began hurling themselves off the sills.
Appalled spectators witnessed one woman lifting up her arms and eyes to the indifferent sky, seemingly mouthing a silent prayer before she threw herself down to the street below. Many workers fell and piled on top of one another, the weight of their bodies rendering useless the safety nets held by firemen. Some victims smashed through the glass-block vault lights in the sidewalk making a hole five feet in diameter. Their mangled corpses were later found in the basement.
Rather than burn to death, Daisy and her friend, Freda Velakowsky jumped hand in hand. Amazingly, they both survived the plunge from the ninth floor. A rescue van transported them to New York Hospital where Daisy lingered for two days and Freda for three, both finally dying of shock and internal injuries.
When the worst fire in New York history was over, one hundred and forty-six workers, most of them immigrant girls, had perished.
Le Ortique 
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