Once it became terrifyingly apparent to Chicagoans that their homes were in the
fire's path and that they had no option but to flee, there was still an important decision left
to make: what, if anything, could they save? Many loaded their worldly goods in wagons
they owned or hired, in several instances never to see them again. Some buried what
precious possessions they could and hoped for the best. Thirteen-year-old Bessie Bradwell
carried away her best clothes by putting them on, while her mother Myra donned
Bessie's father's Masonic hat, declaring, "Masonry will certainly be an aid at a time like this."
Most just gathered up their loved ones, made a hurried selection in these worst of
circumstances, and sadly abandoned the rest to the flames. Aurelia King rescued family
portraits and photographs, along with a few articles of clothing, jewelry, and silver. On her
way out, Myra Bradwell lifted from its place the cage holding her pet bird. Philena Lloyd's
father preserved only the Bible he had brought with him when he and his wife moved from
Maine to Chicago as newlyweds in the mid-1850s. Harriet Peabody, six years old, ran
back into the house to retrieve her doll Bessie. In the heat of the moment, some irrationally
clutched something of no particular personal or financial value. A few lucky ones
recovered precious items that they thought were gone. Julian Rumsey's
servant Christian Larson by chance ran into the stranger whom Rumsey had hired on the
spot to cart away his favorite painting. Mary Emily Blatchford was able to ransom her
wedding dress from someone who had "found" it, so that her daughter could wear it at her
own wedding, as Mrs. Blatchford could again on her fiftieth anniversary in 1908.