1/23/2009

The day ‘swift as molasses’ left a deadly wake

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Tri-O's Oddities, observations, and opinions
By Herb Kandel

My BH (Better Half) and I, were going to one of our twice a year movies. “Hurry up, slowpoke”, she chided. Then taunted, “You're about as slow as molasses in January”.
“Thanks, that‘S a compliment ”, I retorted.
“It wasn't meant to be, Sherlock”
“Au contraire! Do you know molasses was once clocked moving over 30 miles an hour?”
“No. But, tell me after the show.”
Fast forward to later: where the details were related to put that old cliché to rest.

It was 90 years ago, Wednesday, January 15, 1919 in Boston in the commercial section in the north end, where now stand Fanuiel Hall and The New England Aquarium. Nearby stood a huge steel storage tank. It was 58 feet high, over four floors 90 foot diameter with a conical top.
Molasses, at this time in our country, was the primary sweetener. It was used in most baking products and especially in the making of rum (Prohibition was looming) and Boston was a major distiller.

The tank was owned by The Purity Distilling Co., a subsidiary of The United States Industrial Alcohol Co.. It was manufactured by Hammond Iron Works three years before. It was the largest tank Hammond had ever built. The only recorded test performed on it heretofore used only eighteen inches of water. The tank was built with no plans approved and no government inspectors involved. The tank this January day held 2.3 million gallons of molasses.

The temperature at 12:30 P.M climbed to 43 degrees, very mild when compared to the frigid two degrees above zero just three days before. Taking advantage of the now temperate weather, a little blonde-haired girl was seen gathering firewood under the freight cars near the tank.
Later, many attributed this abrupt change in temperature to have caused the molasses, in it’s fermentation, to produce gas to expand and increase pressure against the walls. The company would claim that anarchists planted a bomb near the tank.

At about 12:40 PM, as stated by 3,000 witnesses, there was heard “machine gun” popping of steel bolts and the sound of ripping and tearing, this was followed by, according to the New York Times, “A dull, muffled roar gave but an instant's warning before the top of the tank was blown into the air.” and the massive tank split open. A spout of glue-like slurry propelled by tremendous pressure clawed into the sky followed by a giant wave.

Additional reports of those who were there said “it has a horrible hissing, sucking sound. It splashed in a curved arc straight across the street, crushing everything and everybody in it’s path”.

Anyone attempting to get near the sticky goo stuck in it themselves. “It could suck your boots right off you feet.” The “wall” at least eight feet high (some said 30) that smashed buildings, cars, horses, etc.. The supports and tracks of an elevated train were broken off by the impact of a steel section of the exploded tank.

The immense “gunk tsunami” was clocked between 25 and 35 mph. You could not outrun the rolling tide of goop. The Boston Evening Globe reported, “Once the low, rumbling sound was heard no one had a chance to escape. The buildings seemed to cringe up as though they were made of pasteboard.” The doors and windows of the nearby freight house caved in, and the river of ooze rolled in like molten lava. Those who tried to swim in the sticky stuff were sucked down as though in quicksand. Tons of freight (from the freight cars ----shoes, clothing, fresh produce, barrels, and boxes) tumbled and splashed. It was now so heavy the floors collapsed flooding the cellar where the workers drowned in the sweet, heavy, sludge-like liquid. Some tried to rush up the stairs but they slipped, fell, and disappeared.

The tide of thick slime struck the fire station knocking it over on it’s side and floated it toward the ocean until it snagged on some pilings. Above the wreckage, a fireman saw yellow hair floating on the moving flow. He reach into the gunk and fished out the lifeless body of the little girl who moments before had been collecting firewood.

More than a dozen horses lay helplessly with hooves flopping and flailing in the unfamiliar substance: they had to be shot.

There were 21 deaths and more than 150 people injured, Most of the dead suffocated. Some were cooked, several were crushed and others were swept by the wave into the harbor. It destroyed property worth millions of dollars.

Bostonians were still were still removing the molasses from the cobblestone streets and homes six months later. Boston Harbor had a brownish grime patina long after.

About 125 lawsuits were filed against the U.S. Industrial Alcohol Co.. Six years and 45,000 pages of testimony later the court appointed auditor gave his report.

The auditor found the defendants responsible concluding that the tank had not been strong enough to withstand the pressure and was overfilled due to the impending threat of Prohibition. It had cracked open due to the extra force. The owners of the tank paid almost $1 million in damages--and the “great molasses” case passed into history.

For 30 years afterwards the molasses would still ooze from the ground and sidewalk cracks. To this day some people claim that you can still smell it’s sickening sweet scent on a very hot day.
Ironically, Prohibition was ratified by ¾ of the states on January 16, 1919 ( the day after The Boston Molasses Flood).

(The information in the above was compiled from published accounts on the internet)
http://www.baldwincountynow.com/articles/2009/01/23/columnists/doc4976254bee376997121189.txt