Minutes after midnight, 50 years ago this morning, a second shift of government employees including janitors, maintenance workers, and summer interns, were going off duty at the National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis, which was a giant archive and repository for the service records of many millions of American military veterans.
Among them was Kathy Trieschmann, a St. Louis University student who had landed a coveted internship after her freshman year. Trieschmann was an adventurous young woman -- an avid scuba diver -- but she also had severe asthma, and she was the type of person to notice and check air quality reports, years before most people would have thought of the idea.
It was Trieschmann who first noticed the faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the upper floors of the cavernous records facility. She led a small group of fellow interns upstairs to investigate. The air grew thicker and more acrid as they ascended.
As Megan Greenwell put it in Wired recently:
I've had today's date on my calendar for quite a while now, since back when I worked as the reporter covering veterans for Stars & Stripes. I'd never heard of the 1973 St. Louis records fire before that experience, but it came up constantly in trying to cover the history of Americans in the military before the last few decades.
The fire took four days to put out, and involved soaking the entire collection of paper files with millions of gallons of water. In the end, the personnel records of 17,517,490 U.S. veterans were destroyed.
Here's how the government archives explain it now: Imagine if someone served in the U.S. Army and was discharged between 1947 and 1963; there's an 80% chance the government's only copy of their service record was destroyed. If they served in the U.S. Air Force from 1947 to 1963, there's a 75% chance the records were gone.
These paper files contained all kinds of information that would be useful to veterans (for example, medical and service records that would show they were entitled to veterans' benefits), along with award citations, photographs, and first person narratives and stories of soldiers’ experiences -- basically the kinds of things that would be invaluable for historians, relatives seeking to know about their ancestors, and frankly, reporters covering the veterans beat for Stars & Stripes in the 2010s.
Now, the good news is probably twofold:
First, as far as I can tell, nobody was killed or seriously hurt in this enormous blaze.
Second, the U.S. government undertook a mammoth effort -- one that has lasted five decades and continues -- to try to reconstruct a lot of these records.
There are literally so many records in such disrepair that the work is prioritized in order of whether anyone thinks to ask for a specific veteran's record. Much of it was (and continues to be) painstaking and manual -- literally drying millions and millions of pages of records, treating them in order to kill mold, separating them from one another with tiny blades they apparently refer to as, "microspatulas," and seeing what survived.
The records of Burt Lancaster, who served as an entertainer in the U.S. Army in Europe during World War II, are a good example of records that were singed and soaked, but not destroyed. (That's the photo accompanying today's newsletter, or you can see the original here.)
That said, a lot of records were gone for good.
"We can usually prove eligibility for benefits and get the vet or next of kin their entitlements; however, we cannot recreate the individual file to what it was," Bryan McGraw, access coordinator at the NPRC, said on the official Archives.gov account of the fire and its aftermath. "We don't know what was specifically in each file, and each of these was as different as each of us as individuals. So from a purely historic or genealogical perspective, that material was lost forever."
So, should I wind this up with a reminder to back up your data and important documents?
Or else, maybe a description of how the fire affected construction of similar archival buildings that came afterward?
For one thing, fire walls, doors, and corridors were scarce within the St. Louis building, and the designers had also made a conscious but unfortunate choice not to install sprinklers, on the theory that it might malfunction and accidentally drench the records.
This is no longer considered to be a best practice, I gather.
Overall, I think it's just an under-noticed event in U.S. history that affected a lot of people, and it happened 50 years ago today. If you didn't know about it before, you do now.
Go ahead. Judge a book by its cover.
Just about everybody has a story worth telling. Maybe lots of them.
But, if you’ve decided to write your own book, the platform you choose is crucial. It can be the difference between being taken seriously and finding an audience, or not.
Start by checking out Lulu. It’s the world’s premier online self-publishing platform, where you can turn your manuscript into a professional-quality book in just a few easy steps.
Choose from a range of formats: hardcover, paperback, and ebook, and take advantage of a wide variety of design tools to create a stunning cover and interior layout.
Take advantage of Lulu’s marketing and distribution services to help you get your book into the hands of readers around the world. From Amazon and Barnes & Noble to global distributors like Ingram and Baker & Taylor, Lulu has the reach and expertise to help you build a successful career as an author.
Plus, with Lulu Direct, you can sell your books directly from your website, retain customer data, and get paid immediately while keeping more profit. With Lulu’s white-label drop shipping, you’ll know your customers are getting the best possible service.
So why wait? Join the millions of satisfied authors who have already published with Lulu and take your writing career to the next level today!
Thanks for reading (thanks again!). See you bright and early tomorrow.
Big Optimism
Quick note: Big Optimism is getting a new home. I'm rolling it into my other newsletter, Understandably. So Big Optimism will become a regular Monday feature. If you're already subscribed to Understandably, you're all set—you'll keep getting these optimistic history essays every Monday, right alongside everything else. If you're not subscribed to Understandably (or not sure), click the link below and I'll add you. (And yes, the Big Optimism book is still coming—more on that soon.) Honestly, I...
BIG NEWS before we dive in ... I'm writing a Big Optimism book! As a loyal subscriber, you can get an advance copy for free. How? With the one-click link below. Click that and I'll put you on the list for a free advance copy, and also bring you over to the new home of Big Optimism on Substack. This will be your only chance to come along! I hope you'll click the link (just click it; that's all you have to do) and keep moving forward with me on this optimistic journey. Yes! Keep sending me Big...
November 2, 2025 "Regardless of what actually happened after the first game, football was here to stay." - Rutgers University official account ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ Please let me know here if you can't see the ads. You can ignore the fact that the webpage might not load — just clicking the link tells me! ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ 159 years It's college football season, and you might wonder just how long we've been doing this. Intercollegiate sports in America started with rowing: Harvard and Yale raced on Lake...