Britain Escalator to An Inferno

By Jill Smolowe

At 7:28 p.m., passengers heading up an escalator toward the exits at King's Cross, London's busiest subway station, figured they were nearing the end of their commute home. At 7:29, their routine ride became an ascent into hell. Flames erupted along the moving wooden stairs and spread rapidly upward. Those people riding near the top of the crowded staircase were delivered directly into the center of the blazing inferno. Unable to turn back, they could only push forward into the flames, their clothes and hair catching fire as they dashed for the exits.

Below, pandemonium was erupting. Heavy smoke cascaded down into the labyrinth of tunnels, some as far as 200 ft. below street level, quickly overwhelming people. "There was thick, black, choking smoke everywhere," said Railway Guard Doug Patterson. "It was impossible to see anything." Passengers aboard trains still pulling into the station pressed their faces to the windows and squinted against the smoke, spectators to a nightmare. Recalled Leroy Bigby, 23: "I could hear people screaming and running in every direction."

Most of the panicked commuters clawed and stampeded their way to safety. But 30 people perished in the blaze, almost all of them on the circular ticket concourse at the top of the escalator, most within yards of exit doors. Eighty more were injured, twelve critically, by the intense heat and smoke. The fire was by far the worst in the 124-year history of the London Underground. Until last week's disaster, in fact, only four passengers had died in subway blazes since World War II. But the solid reputation of the city's venerable "Tube" is now under question as Londoners wonder whether the disaster could have been better contained.

The precise cause of the inferno remains a mystery. Initially, word spread that the fire might have started with a carelessly tossed cigarette that ignited trash in a machine room beneath the escalator. But when subway authorities inspected the room, they found it to be, as one said, "clean as a whistle." Other theories looked to the escalator mechanism, which might have produced a spark; or to the prewar wooden stairs, which might have come in contact with a cigarette or other flame. Officials found faults with both explanations. And although they received some telephone calls claiming sabotage, authorities were inclined to rule out both arson and terrorist attack. At week's end the only thing police could say with certainty was that the fire started on the escalator itself.

As the smoke cleared, there was a sense that the disaster need not have been so enormous, the chaos so complete. For almost an hour after the fire erupted, trains continued to pull into King's Cross, some still discharging passengers. Confused station workers directed several passengers onto an escalator that headed directly into the blaze. "The ceiling above was on fire and debris was falling down, but the escalator was still moving," complained Passenger Andrew Lea, who was able to get off the death belt.

Some Londoners were not surprised by such horror stories. Two independent reports, published in 1985 and 1986, warned about fire hazards in the Underground. Among the problems cited in both reports: deficient storage facilities, poor communications systems, inadequate fire training for train crews and station staff. The 1985 report, which was prepared by a public interest group, specifically recommended installation of automatic sprinklers, smoke detectors and fire doors. None of those corrective measures were taken. Underground Operations Director John Cope described such precautions as excessive. "Our fire-prevention procedures are among the most stringent anywhere," he insisted. "There is more of a danger crossing the road outside the station than there is down here."

Some opposition politicians directed their anger at the government of Conservative Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. Frank Dobson, who represents the King's Cross constituency in Parliament, charged that Tory budget-slashing had weakened the Underground system. He noted that the number of transportation employees at the King's Cross station, which handles 200,000 ! passengers daily, had been cut from 16 to ten, and the cleaning staff from 14 to two.

King's Cross has always held a place of prominence in the world's oldest subway system. The station was one of three stops on the original subterranean line that opened Jan. 10, 1863, to shuttle passengers between aboveground railway terminals at Paddington, King's Cross and Farringdon Street. Through the decades that modest 3 1/2-mile nexus has spawned a cavernous labyrinth that now stretches for 254 miles and serves 2.5 million people a day. King's Cross remains the most active hub, its eight platforms serving five lines.

Last week Britain's sympathy was with the bereaved and the brave. Both Thatcher and Queen Elizabeth II praised the rescue workers who plunged into the conflagration. Two fire fighters were injured and one, 45-year-old Colin Townsley, died in the blaze. Among the many flowers placed outside King's Cross station to honor the inferno's victims was a bouquet bearing the inscription "To a brave fire fighter from us all."

The government has pledged a thorough inquiry, and police are appealing to eyewitnesses to come forward with information that might help identify the cause of the blaze. One intriguing lead: the daily Guardian carried a woman's account that she had seen what looked like a "black oily cloth wrapped around something" smoldering near the ill-fated escalator.

The costs of putting King's Cross back together are certain to be enormous. The ticket concourse, about 20 ft. below-ground, is gutted, the metal ticket machines are melted, the turnstiles are blackened, cracked tiles and molten insulation are strewn everywhere. Officials say it will take months before the station is again fully operational. Restoring the riding public's faith in the London Underground may take a good deal longer.

With reporting by Roland Flamini/London