Andy Klotz, a spokesman for the fair, described the sequence of events this way: At 8:39 p.m., the Weather Service upgraded the storm threat in Marion County, where Indianapolis is, to a severe thunderstorm warning from a watch; at 8:45 p.m., a local radio host who was making announcements on stage told the audience that an arriving storm might delay the show and named three shelters; and, at 8:49 p.m., as Ms. Hoye and a State Police official were approaching the stage to call for a formal evacuation for a storm that they believed was at least 25 minutes away, the rigging collapsed.
“Could we have stopped the show? Yes,” Mr. Klotz said. “But you don’t want to overreact. And you don’t want to underreact.”
The fair, which runs until Sunday, reopened on Monday after being closed for a day after the accident. The mood here — usually one of summer cheer and carefree eating — was subdued. Some events were canceled; others meant to take place on the large stage were moved. People stood along yellow police tape staring at the cordoned-off stage, which remained as it had landed on Saturday night, a frightening crush of metal.
On a different, smaller stage on the other side of the fair, the day began with a somber memorial. A bouquet of flowers was carried on stage for each of the five who were killed, which included a teacher, a programming manager, a mother, a father and a stagehand.
“We come today with hearts that are broken but also hearts that are full,” Gov. Mitch Daniels told the silent crowd as helicopters circled overhead.
In so much horror, Mr. Daniels said, many in the crowd had instantly and instinctively turned back to try to save others. “There was a hero every 10 feet on Saturday night.”