Death on the Ice

By Andrew Hind

Eldridge Stanton held his wife close, knowing there was nothing he could do to save her. The ice floe they huddled upon swept down the raging Niagara River, the whirlpool in its path. What was revelry a few minutes ago had turned to horror. Eldridge gently wiped tears from Clara’s eyes, caressed her face, and awaited the inevitable end.

Eldridge and Clara Stanton died that day, Feb 4, 1912. Dying with them was a century-old tradition of partying on the so-called Ice Bridge of the frozen Niagara River. The ice bridge, usually appearing in January and lasting until mid-February, is dependent upon specific climatic conditions to form. It’s created when a mixture of ice and slush flows down from Lake Erie, drops over the falls, and is forced up alongside the shores. The frozen morass jams with more and more ice and slush, gradually increasing in size and density. Eventually, the mass builds up to such an extent that the river becomes encased in a thick layer of ice, creating a ‘bridge’ that reaches across the Niagara River, in places as much as sixty feet thick.

Throughout the 19th century, locals would venture out onto the ice to view the Falls from an exciting new perspective. Eventually, word spread and by the beginning of the 1880s the ice bridge became a popular attraction that lured thousands every year from across the United States and Canada. Businessmen, eager to exploit the opportunity, even set up concession shanties on the ice where one could buy drinks, hot dogs, and souvenirs. There was dancing to live music. Tourists could even get a tintype picture taken of themselves on the ice bridge.

That all changed after Feb. 4, 1912.

Eldridge Stanton, 36, a confectionary company executive from Toronto, and his wife Clara, 28, ventured out onto the Ice Bridge on a bright and clear, though bitterly cold day. They were among 25 or so others. Everyone was in a joyful mood, despite the chill.

Suddenly, a loud and horrible cracking sound echoed through the gorge. The ice began to shake underfoot. Moments later, there was another rumble, followed by the shriek of ice buckling. Cracks began to appear in the ice, tearing jagged fingers across the frozen sheet.

The ice bridge was breaking up.

Everyone raced to the shore, and most made it. Clara and Eldridge had the farthest to run. Clara struggled, and Eldridge desperately tried to urge her on. Not far away, facing the same desperate race to shore, were 17-year-old Burrell Hecock and his friend Ignatius Roth, both of Lorain, Ohio. None made it. The entire mass broke free and began to move down river. The four were in serious trouble.

William “Red” Hill Sr., a well-known river man who would later rise to fame for saving the crew of the scow stranded above the Falls, was also on the ice that day. He reached shore safely and then began crying out instructions to the trapped foursome, directing them around hazards and yelling words of encouragement.

The Stantons and the two boys made it to within fifty feet of the riverbank when they suddenly encountered a wide, slush-filed channel filled with angry, freezing water. It seemed hopeless.

Paralyzed with fear, Clara couldn’t bring herself to go on even though Hill promised them the gap could be crossed. Clara collapsed in exhaustion and despair. She begged her husband to go on without her, but he refused to abandon her. Instead, Eldridge shouted to the two youths for help as he struggled to lift his wife to her feet.

The boys looked back, but only one, Burrell, returned to help. Ignatius kept running. The decision saved his life. He managed to get close enough to shore for Hill to throw him a rope and pull him to safety.

Meanwhile the massive ice flow carrying the three remaining victims was racing ever faster down the river. Their last chance at rescue would be ropes that had been lowered by police and firemen from the Cantilever Bridge. Just before reaching the bridge the ice floe broke in two, separating the Stantons from Burrell. Burrell was the first to reach one of the dangling ropes. Cold and near frozen, he grabbed hold of the rope and hung on for dear life while rescuers tried to pull him up. His hands were so numb from the biting cold that he hadn’t been raised far before he began to lose his grip. Desperately, Burrell tried to hang on with his teeth. He was 40-feet into the air, a third of the way to safety, but his strength was failing rapidly. Finally, as if knowing it was hopeless and exhausted by the fight, Burrell let his head fall back and released his grip. Rescuers on the bridge above watched in horror as he plummeted towards the frigid waters.

Now the ice floe carrying Eldridge and Clara approached the bridge. Selflessly, he raced to tie it around his wife’s waist before they were swept past the bridge. But as the men above pulled, the cord broke.

The river swept the ice flow past the Cantilever Bridge toward lines hanging from the last bridge above the whirlpool. Eldridge grabbed one and again tried to tie it around Clara, but with the ice moving so quickly and with his reflexes slowed by the cold it proved impossible. The rope slid from his grip before he had a chance to secure it. He could have held on. Perhaps he had strength enough in him to be pulled to safety. But he chose to remain with Clara.

There was no hope for the Stantons now, and they knew it. An eyewitness described the final moments of the unfolding drama: “He raised the woman to her feet, kissed her and clasped her in his arms. The woman then sank to her knees. The man knelt beside her; his arms clasped close about her. So, they went to their death. The ice held intact until it struck the great wave [the Whirlpool]. There it shattered; there the gallant man and the woman at his side disappeared from view.”

News of the tragedy was startling enough to make the front pages across North America. The community of Niagara Falls was still grieving that October when a memorial tablet was erected in Queen Victoria Park to honour the heroism of young Burrell Hecock.

In the aftermath, the Canadian and American governments agreed that they could not, in good conscience, allow the practice of venturing out onto the Niagara Ice Bridge to continue. The risk of a repeat was too great.

And so, the joyful tradition of ice parties beneath the Falls came to a sudden and tragic end.