Great White frontman Jack Russell onstage, unaware of the fire behind him

OUR HOUSE

In their numerous times playing the Rhode Island club, the members of Who's Next accrued nothing but fond memories. Remembers guitarist Bill Canell: "It was organized, great staff, great soundman, always accommodating. You'd walk into the place and they would set you right up. You're talking about a local, localized community: blue-collar people, nice people...the place reminded me of an old country bar. You would see a guy with a cowboy hat on, and standing next to him would be a guy in an AC/DC T-shirt. It was a great cross-section of people who just went there to play some pool, throw some darts, drink some beer and see a rock 'n' roll band. I never had a bad thought about the club. They treated you well, the accommodations were always great. I loved playing there. It had a great sound system, a great crowd, it was a good rock 'n' roll club. It was our house. That's what we called it."

Who's Next shows were generously attended by the local crowd, but the Great White gig was an anomaly by most standards.

"It's always been a comfortable 200 people in there, where you can move around," remembers McDonald, who says he frequented The Station about once a month prior to the 20th.

"I've never personally seen any other pyrotechnic shows take off in that place. All the shows I've seen have been contained: just fogger—we use a fogger—maybe lasers, general lights—we usually bring a laser light for our shows. Two hundred people fit comfortably. This was the first time I've seen it as packed as it was. There were over 300, maybe 350 in that place."

And while overselling a room may be nothing new to promoters, the volatile combination of pyro and flammable walls is questionable even to the shiftiest of club owners and the most arrogant of bands. Because their own show didn't use fire effects, Who's Next never considered the dangers.

"Looking back on it now, yes, having foam all over the stage, on those side walls and the drum pit, might have been a scary situation," says Canell. "But going in there, I never thought for one second that it was a fire hazard. It's the furthest thing from your mind."

"It's a great place for sound," says McDonald. "It's definitely no place for pyrotechnics. They shouldn't have had the pyrotechnics at the magnitude that they did. It was like something you'd have at a fireworks display. It took up the whole stage."

"It blew my mind that a band would go in there and set something like that up," says Canell. "The fact that the club was small is number one; number two, there's foam all over the walls—it doesn't take a brain surgeon to realize: Don't set this stuff off."

THE SEARCH FOR ANSWERS

All of this brings up perhaps the most pertinent and painful question currently surrounding the disaster: Who is to blame? Clearly Great White is responsible for bringing in the pyro—and they may in fact have not warned the club's owners that it was coming [Station owners Jeffrey and Michael Derderian issued a statement through their lawyer that said: "At no time did either owner have prior knowledge that pyrotechnics were going to be used by the band Great White. No permission was ever requested by the band or its agents to use pyrotechnics at The Station, and no permission was even given."], but shouldn't someone at the club have noticed? Couldn't someone have put a stop to it?

According to McDonald, "I don't know if [Great White] called ahead of time and they spoke to the wrong person, or maybe it was a surprise and [the owners of The Station] just let it go, but I know I said 'hello' to the owner Jeff Derderian, and he was helping behind the bar, moving around. He's a mobile guy, all over the place, he's not standing there behind the soundman, looking on. He probably leaves it up to his subordinates to check all that stuff out. But the soundman that we deal with wasn't there. I didn't see him in the club, so I don't know who [Great White] dealt with at the beginning."

It has been reported that Derderian was looking on as the pyrotechnics were being set up. Derderian denies all knowledge.

"I don't know who gave them the okay," continues McDonald. "A lot of times, the owners [of The Station] may be oblivious to what's going on. Every time we played there, we would always see them at the end of the night to collect our money; we never saw them when we would set up stage. That doesn't make them bad people, but they were sort of out of the loop or uninformed. [But] I think something like that, like pyrotechnics, I think they would question that. I don't think they would allow us to put up just anything. The soundman was always there. They had a light man, and they would help us. We always did a sound check, and we'd set up our fog, but we wouldn't actually use it until the show. But as far as the pyrotechnics, if we were to set that up, I know they would question it."

Canell places the blame somewhat more squarely on Great White: "If [you're] bringing pyrotechnics, you've gotta tell the club," he says. "I certainly would. I wouldn't be lighting fires off on stage without telling people. Even if the ceilings were 30 feet tall, you've gotta disclose that. You've gotta tell people about it. I tell people when we have a smoke machine. I tell them, 'We've got a smoke machine. Is that gonna set your alarms off?' We know that's not a fire hazard, but us, as a band, we have a responsibility. God forbid we set a sprinkler system off in a club. I'm always aware. I tell people what we've got."

Who's Next was scheduled to play at The Station on March 22; instead, they're performing as part of a benefit for the victims' families to be held at The Downtown in Farmingdale on March 6. While the members of the band—like so many who lost friends or family in the fire—search for answers, they are left with only confusion, anger and sadness.

"The people in West Warwick are the coolest people you'll ever meet," says Canell. "To them, [The Station] was like the Nassau Coliseum. This was the place to be. This was their place to see rock music; people were just there to have a good time, have fun. This is something that so could have been avoided. It was carelessness on a lot of people's parts. They dropped the ball. They didn't use common sense, that's the bottom line, and people lost their lives for it."

McDonald is, understandably, even more distraught. "There was nothing I could do," he says. He believes his experience is similar to those of the survivors of the World Trade Center attacks. "I was in shock. I felt helpless. I need to get back and talk to people. I'm in there one moment and everyone's having a great time, people were nice, the vibe was tremendous. I was looking forward to hearing the band—I don't know a lot of their songs, but I always loved [Russell's] voice, it reminded me a little bit of Robert Plant—and all of a sudden, that happened. Life taken away, and I'm one of the lucky ones. What does that say? It bothers me. It was our home away from home."