Killer Show: The Station Nightclub Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

W.A.S.P. concert, Julian faxed Jay Frey, W.A.S.P.’s booking agent, with the terse message, “ CAPACITY DOWNGRADED TO 350 . New Fire Marshal (Asshole Maximus!)” Of course, there had been no downgrade. And no new fire marshal.
    The Derderians caught on to the capacity game quickly. Even though the club’s legal occupancy under their ownership could not exceed 404 (with all tables removed), the 2003 Talent Buyers’ Directory, a music industry guidebook used by agents to book acts, listed The Station’s capacity as 550. The guide, which relies upon owners for their clubs’ capacity information, listed Michael Derderian as the “owner and booking contact.”
    The brothers’ contracts with national acts similarly overstated the potential gate. Great White’s contract for an April 2000 appearance at The Station represented a capacity of 500; Warrant’s, for later that month, the same. A contract for Poundhound in May 2001 stated that 550 patrons could fill the club; the agreement for Anthrax to appear that October also read 550. Eddie Money and the Dead Kennedys were each promised a club with room for 550 when they played The Station in 2002. So was Quiet Riot.
    Apparently, the Derderians were no more candid with their patrons about permitted capacity. At 6 o’clock on the evening of Great White’s final appearance at The Station, Frank Canillas called the club to see if there were still tickets available. He was told that there would be 100 business cards (used as tickets) available for purchase at the door, that the last show there had drawn 480 fans, and that the club “fit about 600 people.” He would later recount this to the police from beneath bandages in his hospital bed.

    Barry Warner’s house was the closest neighboring structure to The Station’s stage door. About one hundred feet distant and up a small rise, the house was separated from the club property by a thin stand of trees. On concert nights the bass speakers at the club would sometimes rattle pictures on Warner’s walls.
    Warner or his wife called police with noise complaints numerous times when Skip Shogren owned the club. When Howard Julian operated it as the Filling Station, the Warners continued their crusade in letters to the town council. By the time Julian sought to transfer the club’s liquor and entertainment licenses to the Derderians, the Warners had had enough and vocally opposed the transfer unless something was done about the noise, parking lot fights, and overcrowding.
    Transfer of a liquor or entertainment license in West Warwick requires sign-offs by the building inspector, the fire chief, and the police chief. In 2000 the police chief was Peter Brousseau. He spoke with Mike Derderianin May of that year, “strongly advising him that his entertainment license would not be approved unless he corrected the noise problems.” “He is going to speak to the neighbors to work on issues,” wrote Chief Brousseau in a memo dated May 12.
    On a quiet afternoon that same month, Barry Warner and his son, Matthew, were sitting on their back porch when two clean-cut young men rounded a corner of the house and introduced themselves. They were Jeff and Mike Derderian. They’d just bought The Station, you see, and they wanted to assure Warner that they would be “good neighbors.” Warner listened as they explained how they “were very proactive” and wanted to do a good job running the club. At one point, the brothers offered to buy him an air conditioner so that he could keep his windows closed, and the noise out, on summer nights. Warner passed on that. Then the Derderians gave Warner their personal phone numbers and stressed that if noise were ever a problem, he should call them directly, rather than the police.
    The Derderians’ awkward social call on Barry Warner was drawing to an uncertain close when Warner spoke up. “One option might be to use polyurethane foam for sound insulation in the club.” It appeared that he had caught