By  the end of the night, the town of Peshtigo, Wisconsin, would be burned to ashes. As many as 2,500 people would be dead. But on that Sunday morning of October 8, 1871, 7-year-old John Kramer could not have imagined that he was about to face the deadliest fire in American history. 

It had been a difficult but exciting year for the Kramer family. John, his parents, and his 9-year-old brother, Mike, had come to the United States from Germany in the 1860s. They first settled in the rolling farmland of Upstate New York before heading west to the young state of Wisconsin. Thousands of new immigrants had made the same westward journey in the 1860s, lured by the promise of cheap farmland and the chance to carve a brand-new life out of the American wilderness. 

And what a wilderness it was!

At the time, an enormous forest stretched across Wisconsin and neighboring states—billions of trees covering thousands of square miles of land. These were the forests of fairy tales, full of towering trees, howling wolves, and dagger-clawed bears. Laura Ingalls Wilder, author of the Little House series, was born in a cabin in the northern woods of Wisconsin just three years before the Kramers arrived in the area in 1870. Describing the land where her family lived, she wrote, “The great, dark trees of the Big Woods stood all around the house, and beyond them were other trees, and beyond them were more trees.”

Laura was not exaggerating. The forest that stretched across northern Wisconsin was truly exceptional. For centuries, those woods stood mostly undisturbed. 

But by the time John and his family arrived, big changes were in motion.

It was Sunday, October 8, 1871. By the end of the night, the town of Peshtigo, Wisconsin, would be burned to ashes. As many as 2,500 people would be dead. It was the deadliest fire in American history. But that morning, John Kramer could not have imagined what he was about to face. 

John was 7 years old. His brother, Mike, was 9 years old. They and their parents had come to the United States in the 1860s from Germany. First they settled in New York. Then they headed west to the young state of Wisconsin. Thousands of new immigrants had made the same westward journey in the 1860s. The farmland was cheap to buy. It gave them the chance to carve a brand-new life out of the American wilderness. 

And what a wilderness it was!

At the time, an enormous forest stretched across Wisconsin and neighboring states. Billions of trees covered thousands of square miles of land. Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote the Little House series. She was born in a cabin in Wisconsin just three years before the Kramers arrived in the area in 1870. This is how she described the land around her family’s home: “The great, dark trees of the Big Woods stood all around the house, and beyond them were other trees, and beyond them were more trees.”

Laura was not exaggerating. The forest that stretched across northern Wisconsin was truly exceptional. For centuries, those woods stood mostly untouched. 

But by the time John and his family arrived, big changes were in motion.

In the late 19th century, American cities were booming—especially Chicago, 250 miles south of Peshtigo. Just 40 years earlier, Chicago had been little more than a small town on a mosquito-ridden marsh. By 1871, it was the fastest-growing city in the world. Every day, it seemed new buildings rose up: mansions and shops, warehouses and department stores. For all this construction, Chicago builders needed a constant supply of wood; they found it in the great forests of northern Wisconsin. 

In the 1860s, lumber companies began buying up huge chunks of the northern woods. They sent out armies of lumberjacks to chop down trees, which were then stripped of branches, dragged by oxcart across the forest, and dumped into the Peshtigo River. The river’s rushing waters carried the giant logs downstream to Peshtigo’s sawmill, where they were transformed into lumber for building. 

By 1870, the forest surrounding Peshtigo echoed with the shouts of lumberjacks, the sawing of wood, and the thunder of 150-foot-tall trees crashing to the ground. After an area of forest had been stripped of trees, lumber companies sold the land to farmers like John’s parents. 

The Kramers felt at home in Wisconsin, where they met many fellow German immigrants. Within a year of their arrival, they had finished building their house. The boys were thriving. Everything seemed hopeful. 

Then came the fire.

In the late 19th century, American cities were booming. Chicago was one of them. It was 250 miles south of Peshtigo. Just 40 years earlier, Chicago had been a small town. By 1871, it was the fastest-growing city in the world. Every day, it seemed like new buildings were going up. Chicago builders needed a constant supply of wood to build them. They got it from the great forests of northern Wisconsin. 

In the 1860s, lumber companies began buying huge chunks of the northern woods. They sent lumberjacks to chop down trees. The trees were stripped of branches, dragged by oxcart across the forest, and dumped into the Peshtigo River. The river carried  the giant logs downstream to Peshtigo’s sawmill. There, they were transformed into lumber for building. 

By 1870, the forest surrounding Peshtigo echoed with the shouts of lumberjacks, the sawing of wood, and the thunder of 150-foot-tall trees crashing to the ground. After an area was cleared of trees, lumber companies sold the land to farmers like John’s parents. 

The Kramers felt at home in Wisconsin. They met many fellow German immigrants. They built their house within a year. The boys were thriving. Everything seemed hopeful. 

Then came the fire.

Soon after moving to Wisconsin, the Kramers had learned that fires were a fact of life in the woods. Though some fires were sparked by lightning, most were set intentionally. Lumberjacks lit fires to consume the branches they hacked off trees. Farmers used fire to clear their land of tree stumps and brush that lumberjacks had left behind. At times, there were so many fires burning that a choking fog of smoke hung over Peshtigo. 

These fires were exacerbated by dry weather. In the spring and summer of 1871, little rain had fallen, and the entire Midwest was parched. Creeks had dried up. Trees had withered. The people of the Menominee Indian Tribe of Wisconsin, who had called the woods of northern Wisconsin home for thousands of years, understood that this weather could spell disaster for the area. They knew the forests were too dry, and tribe elders warned settlers that a large fire was inevitable. 

And they were right. 

On September 24, a series of fires began to burn out of control in and around Peshtigo. The blazes burned hundreds of acres of forestland and incinerated homes and shops in nearby communities. When Peshtigo’s biggest factory caught fire, hundreds of men rushed to fight the flames with buckets of water from the river. They managed to save the building, but dozens were injured in the exhausting fight. 

That fire cast a spell of fear over Peshtigo. A few people were so rattled that they packed up and left the area for good, but most families lacked the money to start again someplace new. All they could do was try to prepare. A town priest, Father Peter Pernin, buried the church’s precious books and ornaments in the ground. Farmers kept wet blankets in their barns to protect their animals from airborne sparks. The Kramers cleared their land of every speck of dried brush and wood.

But in fact, there was no way to prepare for the horror to come. 

Soon after moving to Wisconsin, the Kramers learned that fires happened often in the woods. Some fires were sparked by lightning. But most were set on purpose. Lumberjacks lit fires to burn up the branches they hacked off trees. Farmers used fire to clear their land of tree stumps and brush that lumberjacks had left behind. At times, all the fires created a choking fog of smoke over Peshtigo. 

These fires were exacerbated by dry weather. In the spring and summer of 1871, little rain had fallen. The entire Midwest was parched. Creeks had dried up. Trees had withered. The people of the Menominee Indian Tribe of Wisconsin knew that this weather could spell disaster for the area. They had called the woods of northern Wisconsin home for thousands of years. They knew the forests were too dry. Tribe elders warned settlers that a large fire was inevitable. 

And they were right. 

On September 24, a series of fires began to burn out of control in and around Peshtigo. The blazes burned hundreds of acres of forestland and incinerated homes and shops in nearby communities. Peshtigo’s biggest factory caught fire. Hundreds of men fought the flames with buckets of water from the river. They saved the building. But dozens were injured in the exhausting fight. 

That fire cast a spell of fear over Peshtigo. Some people packed up and left the area for good. But most families did not have the money to move. All they could do was try to prepare. A town priest, Father Peter Pernin, buried the church’s precious books and ornaments in the ground. Farmers kept wet blankets in their barns to protect their animals from airborne sparks. The Kramers cleared their land of every speck of dried brush and wood.

But there was no way to prepare for the horror to come. 

John’s parents fled moments before the explosion. They knew their house would be destroyed. Now they just wanted to find the boys. They left with only one possession, a mattress stuffed with feathers—used to try to protect themselves from the flames and smoke. They headed toward the plowed field where the boys were waiting.

They soon realized they would never make it. Flames were everywhere, closing in on the Kramers from all directions. It was as though the air itself was ablaze.

All seemed hopeless for John’s parents, until they noticed a well. They shoved their mattress into the water, soaking it, then climbed into the well and pulled the mattress on top of them.

As the Kramers hid inside the well, clinging to each other in terror, they could not begin to imagine the scene of horror unfolding in Peshtigo. The heat and flames killed hundreds of people instantly. Others died attempting to flee to the river. The Kramers could hear the fire roaring above them. They did not expect to survive the night.

Neither did John and Mike, who huddled together in the middle of the plowed field. 

The fire raged for hours. It leveled Peshtigo and 16 other towns. By morning, more than a billion trees were gone, and an area twice the size of Rhode Island was nothing more than a sea of charred trees and ash. Nobody knows how many people died, though many agree it was likely between 1,000 and 2,500. 

John’s parents fled moments before the explosion. They knew their house would be destroyed. Now they just wanted to find the boys. They grabbed a mattress stuffed with feathers. They used it to protect themselves from the flames and smoke. They headed toward the field where the boys were waiting.

They realized they would never make it to the field. The flames were everywhere.

All seemed hopeless. But then they noticed a well. They soaked their mattress in the water. Then they climbed into the well. They pulled the mattress on top of them.

The Kramers clung to each other inside the well. Meanwhile, a scene of horror unfolded in Peshtigo. The heat and flames killed hundreds of people instantly. Others died attempting to flee to the river. The Kramers could hear the fire roaring above them. They did not expect to survive the night.

Neither did John and Mike. They were huddled together in the middle of the plowed field. 

The fire raged for hours. It leveled Peshtigo and 16 other towns. By morning, more than a billion trees were gone. An area twice the size of Rhode Island was nothing more than a sea of charred trees and ash. Nobody knows how many people died. However, many agree it was likely between 1,000 and 2,500. 

Miraculously, the entire Kramer family survived. 

John and Mike staggered out of the field. Their parents climbed out of the well, shivering but unhurt. 

As John would say decades later, the joy of their reunion carried the family through the difficult months that followed. Their town was gone, as were most of their friends. The Kramers decided to stay and help rebuild. John was still living in Peshtigo when he died at the age of 81, surrounded by his six children and four grandchildren. 

History has largely forgotten the Great Peshtigo Fire, but today, as climate change continues to increase the risk of wildfires, there are still lessons to learn from the tragedy. The disaster highlights the importance of responsible forestry and logging practices, like clearing flammable debris from areas where it can catch fire. In fact, firefighters and forest managers still study the event to better understand the unpredictable nature—and extreme power—of wildfires. 

As for the Kramers, John’s grandchildren will always remember Peshtigo and that their lucky grandfather survived the most deadly fire in U.S. history. 

Miraculously, the entire Kramer family survived. 

John and Mike staggered out of the field. Their parents climbed out of the well. 

The joy of reuniting carried the family through the difficult months that followed. Their town was gone. Most of their friends were gone too. The Kramers decided to stay and help rebuild. John was still living in Peshtigo when he died at the age of 81. He had six children and four grandchildren. 

History has largely forgotten the Great Peshtigo Fire. But today, there are still lessons to learn from the tragedy as climate change continues to increase the risk of wildfires. The disaster shows the importance of responsible forestry and logging practices, like clearing flammable debris from areas where it can catch fire. In fact, firefighters and forest managers still study the event to better understand wildfires. 

As for the Kramers, John’s grandchildren will always remember Peshtigo and that their grandfather survived the most deadly fire in U.S. history.