It was 70 years ago this Saturday that history was made in Allen. Unfortunately it wasn’t “good” history. It was the day, November 8, 1954, that the Allen High School exploded. Not only was the event covered throughout the state, it made the papers nationwide.

“School Explodes in Oklahoma...Kids Blown Everywhere” The day was Monday, November 8, 1954, the time...1:40 p.m. What began as a typical fall school day for the students of Allen High School, ended in tragedy for the entire community.

The late Hope Patterson McInroy, author of “Beginning at Cold Springs, The History of Allen, Oklahoma” gave the following account in her book: “On Monday, November 8, 1954, an explosion caused by an accumulation of natural gas under two classrooms occurred at the Allen school. More than forty students and two teachers were injured, some seriously, but fortunately, there were no fatalities. J. N. McKeel, Superintendent, was conducting an algebra class of ninth grade students, and Freeman Pickle, high school principal, was teaching a tenth grade English class, when the blast occurred. Both classrooms were totally destroyed and the remainder of the building was so badly damaged that it had to be razed. Twenty-three students suffered fractured necks, arms and legs, and burns in varying degrees, and it was considered a real miracle that none died in the tragedy.”

Among the students who experienced that November day of terror first-hand were the late Charles Cannon and David Jones, both of whom were in Mr. Pickle’s English class.

In an interview, Charles remembered, “that it was about the first hour after noontime, when the bell started to ring and the explosion went off. The gas leak was in our room. There was a pipe with a nipple on it sticking up out of the floor with a cap on it where they would hook up the heater in the wintertime. Everybody would come by, including me, and always step on it. It would go down and then come up with that cap on it. I could hear it (the gas) spewing under there but didn’t think anything about it.

“There was a bell on the clock in the entryway of the school and when that thing blew, it blew all that plaster off that wall all the way up to the clock. It was just fixing to ring, but everybody said the bell just tingled. I don’t remember hearing it, but I was told about it later. The room we were in blew up, the walls went out and the roof came down and I was pinned to the floor in that corner. It was the only place that it came down in the whole school.

“I had just thrown a paper wad at Glen Johnson, we were both sitting on the back row. I put this library book up to my face, then everything just went white. It was a sensation like when an elevator stops and that’s all I felt. It blew me out of my shoes. I had a gash in the back of my head. Cooper came to help pull me out, but he took a look at me and then he passed out. Someone yelled that there was fire, so I got out in a hurry. The shop teacher took me to the football stadium and stopped the bleeding and then I went to the hospital. Later, I went back up there and found my shoes, but I never found my library book.”

David Jones recalled that the English teacher was the kind of teacher the kids would make fun of with a name like Pickle. “I remember when I was crawling out of there that Mr. Pickle was standing on the top of his desk, with a cut on his head and blood running down his face, and he was giving instructions to the people. I always thought he needed to be given credit for that. I remember thinking that wasn’t the Mr. Pickle I knew or thought I knew.

“Our desks were the freestanding kind with the arms on them. You could scoot them around; they weren’t the kind that was fastened down. I remember it felt like slow motion, just floating up and turning backwards. Everything was an ashy kind of red color for a minute. The next thing I knew, I was just trying to get out. I wasn’t hurt at all. I don’t remember any noise, I don’t remember any pain, and I don’t remember getting knocked around, just that I had to crawl out of the debris.”

First-hand accounts of the explosion were in a full-page article in the Ada Evening News on November 9th. “Everyone was scared and I was no exception...” said coach and science teacher, Bill Worthington.

Another student, Jim Anderson, was in one of the classrooms that day. He was working at the blackboard when the explosion occurred. It was said he went straight up and left a chalk mark on the board all the way to the top.

The newspaper account also stated, “Barbara Sue Nickell, 15, walked out of the ruins despite badly burned legs, hands and arms. Wayne Sanders, 16, suffered a back injury, but didn’t realize it until some time later. He carried Charlotte Rowsey out of the building and went back after another girl but collapsed.”

Charlotte (Rowsey) Clark recalled, “I was a sophomore then, and that afternoon I was sitting near the corner of the room when the explosion occurred. I remembered just going up...and then the screaming and the pain. It was chaos with everyone screaming and yelling for help. I was trapped against the wall and the windows had all been blown out. People were burned and their hair was singed. Blood was in my eyes from a cut on my head and I couldn’t see. My wrist was crushed and I couldn’t get out by myself, so Wayne Sanders helped lift me up so I could get out. When we got out, he collapsed outside. His back was broken.”

Inez (Brooks) Figley wrote of her experience of that Monday afternoon: “We were sitting in class, it was around 1:45, and someone asked our teacher if he would let us go outside because the smell of gas was so bad that some of us had headaches. In the room next to us, Mr. McKeel, the superintendent, was teaching math.

“After we were told we couldn’t go outside, the next thing I remember, I was falling. It was like a dream. I opened my eyes and there were boards and things all over. I was sitting in the worst mess I ever saw. Boards were all around me and dust was so bad. I started trying to get up but had to push things off of me. I looked over where the windows were and got up on the brick wall. I saw Harold Epperly and he came over and helped me down. I walked over to the merry-go-round and sat down. I could feel something running down my face, but I didn’t hurt anywhere. I wiped my face and there was blood. My knees were bleeding also.

“While I sat there, four men came out of the mess carrying a boy and laid him down. It was James Thomas. I just sat there for a while, just like I was waiting for someone to come and get me. After a while, a man came over and told me to go with Mr. Capps and his daughter, Glenda. They put me in the floor of the ambulance. I didn’t know where I was going. When we got to the hospital, nurses were doing a lot of things, trying to see how badly I was hurt. I remember they were trying to put something on my legs. It hurt so bad! Dr. Cramlet came in and started talking, and that helped calm me down. They put stitches over my right eye and in my right thumb. My arm was broken, so that had to have a cast.

“I don’t remember Momma coming to see me. She was told at first that I might have been sent to McAlester. Then they were told some of the kids were taken to Valley View Hospital in Ada. She went there but couldn’t locate me. Momma came back to Allen. Someone told her they thought I had been taken to Holdenville General Hospital. She said it was around 8 p.m. before they learned which hospital I was in.

“I stayed in the hospital until Wednesday. Thursday morning my eye was swollen and black. Every time I lay down on my back, it felt like something was on the bed. Momma would clean the bed off, but there still felt like something there. By that afternoon, Papa said he wanted to look at my back. There was a knot, and it was blue, and he told Momma to call the doctor. Friday, I went back to the doctor and Momma told him about the knot. He sent me for x-rays. The doctor came in and said, ’I have bad news. Your back is broken.’ He put a 35-pound cast on me that went from my neck to my hips. I had to wear it for six weeks.”

Inez also told of the long-term effects that traumatic day had on her life. “I had bad dreams, couldn’t sleep, and with no one to help me cope and understand all that I was going through. I was never able to go back to school. Every time I went back into the building, it was like the explosion was happening all over again.”

The Tuesday morning edition of The Daily Oklahoman listed the most seriously injured who were admitted to Ada and Holdenville hospitals. In all, twenty people were seriously injured with burns, lacerations, shock and broken bones. Those listed were Freeman O. Pickle, James Thomas (who was still unconscious on Tuesday) Glen Johnson, Jerald Tucker, Fern Smith, Donald Nickell, Marilyn Miller, Cleta Wilkerson, Blytha Baum, Harlan Triplett, Wayne Sanders, Shirley Inman, Joy Rose, Lavon Baker, Barbara Mitchell, Billy Orick, James Jestes, Phyllis Hammons, Barbara Bryant and Glenda Capps.

By the following Wednesday, classes had resumed in makeshift quarters. An assembly was held and according to an Allen Advocate staff article, “It was a heart-touching scene.” Speaking to the students and faculty, Superintendent J. N. McKeel said, “I don’t have the words to express my regrets in connection with the disaster, but we can be happy that it was no worse.”

Newspapers continued to report the daily conditions of those who were injured as well as the progress in getting the school back in order the following week. The Allen National Guardsmen were called to keep outsiders from the school until valuable items and usable equipment could be removed before repairs could begin. By Thursday, November 11th, five students Joy Rose, Shirley Inman, Barbara Nickell, Glen Johnson and Wayne Sanders were still hospitalized with their injuries, while others recovered at home.

As the news spread, newspapers from all over the country picked up the story on the wires and hurried to get an “extra” edition on the street.

Now retired Allen pharmacist, Wayne Bullard, recalls: “I was in the Navy in 1954, stationed on a Destroyer Escort, USS Johnnie Hutchins DE-360 which was home based in Boston. I had a little time off and had just got off the subway in downtown, near the Boston Common, when I heard a newsboy shouting, ‘Ex-tre Extree, read all about it, school explodes in Oklahoma-----Kids blown everywhere--many dead!!’ So, I was interested right off, gave the boy my nickel and read the afflicted school was in Allen, Oklahoma, the town in which I was born. A later report indicated that while there were no deaths, some kids had been blown away and seriously injured. The Boston papers gave good coverage to the story for a few days, but it took a phone call home to get a better perspective. Boston newspapers are (to this day) notoriously unreliable. Allen’s fame was extended a bit with follow-up news reports and one in LIFE Magazine as I remember. It was, the big story of that week, all over the world but the kids of Allen paid a big price for that publicity.”

Vincent P. Gleeson lived in New Jersey at the time and was surprised that his small hometown had made headlines there as well.

It was also reported that a group of senior girls made an inventory of the senior pictures hanging in the hall and much to their disappointment, several had been damaged or destroyed. Plans were made immediately to have the framed pictures repaired to hang in the new school building.

In time, all recovered. However, years later, several ex-students commented that the slamming of a door or a particular sight or smell would trigger flashback memories of that frightful afternoon, a condition recognized today as post traumatic stress syndrome.

In 1955, a new building replaced the destroyed high school and in 1958, the 39-year old two-story building was torn down. At that time, mementos were found behind the old cornerstone placed there during construction in 1919. Among the items found was a New Testament, a U.S. flag, several coins and a copy of the Allen Hustler dated June 20, 1919.