Pennsylvanian Horror Story: Johnstown Flood

I’d heard of Johnstown, Pennsylvania. I knew it was somewhere near Altoona. I knew there had been a flood there. I knew some of my childhood television stations were broadcast from there. The End.

I honestly didn’t know anything about the flood. When was it? Why did it happen? How bad was it? I don’t remember learning about it in school. True to my style, I learned most everything I know about it from a television show.  A few years ago the History Channel aired a mini-series called “The Men Who Built America.” Home on vacation from ships, I tuned in hoping to learn something and gain inspiration to one day add my name to the list of Women Who Built America. Well, I learned lots of somethings. Some of those were inspiring, but most of the stories were so full of greed and selfishness it was sickening. One great example: The Johnstown Flood.

In 1826 legislators in the state of Pennsylvania authorized a canal system to be built between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh. The South Fork Dam was built to support this Main Line canal system, but by the time it opened in 1853 canals were nearly obsolete. (My next National Park blog will be about an amazing section of the Main Line canal, so stay tuned!) The Pennsylvania Railroad was surpassing the canal system and they eventually bought the dam. Under their ownership a problem with the discharge pipes lead to the first break in the dam in 1862. At this time the water level was so low that the damage was minimal. Having no use for the dam the railroad never fixed the discharge system and it sat, abandoned, for 17 years until it was purchased by the South Fork Club.

The South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club was a summer retreat for Pittsburgh’s wealthiest citizens: Andrew Carnegie, Henry Frick, Andrew Mellon, and friends. This group purchased the abandoned reservoir, “repaired” the dam, and raised the level of Lake Conemaugh. They also had a clubhouse and several houses, or “cottages” as they called them. I live in a one-bedroom condo. Let’s call them houses.

South Fork Fishing and Hunting Clubhouse

The Fishing and Hunting Club actually sounds quite nice. Built above Lake Conemaugh they had sailboats, canoes, and even a couple steam yachts. A place I would not mind spending some time. But ultimately their ignorance and carelessness would lead to tragedy.

As I mentioned earlier, the drainage system in the dam was never repaired. If you’ve ever seen a dam – even a beaver dam – you know that some water gets through. That’s how the lake level is controlled.  The South Fork Dam now lacked the drainage pipes and relied solely on the spillway off to the side. However, the Fishing and Hunting club had stocked Lake Conemaugh with black bass at great expense and feared the fish would escape downstream through the spillway. To control this they added screens. What was meant to keep fish in would eventually become clogged with debris and prevent water from getting out.

A reconstructed spillway in place today.
Home of the Fishing and Hunting club president on right.
National Park Service Visitor Center on left.

The top of the dam also served as a bridge; a one lane bridge. To allow two carriages to pass, the club decided to lower the dam 1-3 feet. This made the center of the dam, the portion bearing the greatest pressure, dangerously low.

The dam connected the two sections with wooden railings.
Approximately the same height as the highway bridge today.
Everything to the left was Lake Conemaugh.

It had rained all through the night and into the morning of May 31, 1889. Lake Conemaugh was close to reaching the top of its lowered dam. The president of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting club called his staff to action. Some began to dig a new spillway as the screens in the current spillway were not letting enough water through. Some began trying to make the dam higher. But the rain continued to fall and the lake continued to rise. The weakest and lowest part of the dam was now the center. Once the lake crested there it eroded a large section and sent a 36-foot tall wall of water down the Little Conemaugh river.

Two miles later the 20 million tons of water decimated the town of South Fork. The 20-30 homes and 4 lives it took were just the beginning. The wave was delayed at the Conemaugh Viaduct as the debris from South Fork and railroad track and ties slammed against the structure and created a temporary dam. But as more water joined the force it eventually broke free. The homes of 30 families were reduced to a bare rock at Mineral Point.

The raging river of debris began to pick up speed after destroying East Conemaugh and several waiting trains. Here the valley straightens. The floodwaters are believed to have been traveling at about 40 miles per hour. Had the water traveled in a straight line from the dam it would have hit Johnstown at a speed of 60-90 miles an hour.

Moments before reaching Johnstown the flood destroyed the town of Woodvale. Woodvale was an industrial town, like Johnstown. The destructions of its mills added oil to the growing pile of debris. Worse yet was the destruction of Woodvale Wire Works sending miles of barbed wire churning towards Johnstown.

It took 10 minutes for the wave to crash through Johnstown. Some had heard warnings and escaped. Some made it to roof tops and were awaiting rescue. But the story was very different for many, many more. Hundreds of people were now trapped in a pile of debris against a stone railroad bridge at the edge of town. The destroyed houses, trains, trees, and barbed wire made it nearly impossible for people to escape. As survivors worked to rescue others, the oil in the mix caught fire.

By the morning of June 1, 1889 2,209 people were dead. Many never identified or even found. A typhoid epidemic would add 40 more to the count in the coming days. The property damage was $17 million.

No one can say for sure what caused the destruction. Was it the poor maintenance and lowering of the dam? Was it the timbering of the Conemaugh River valley? Was it simply an act of God? Was it a combination of all of those? People have been debating that for over 100 years now. We will never know, but this Pennsylvanian Horror Story is a good reminder that actions have consequences. Nature is powerful and we have a responsibility to be good stewards of this earth. Let us not ever create a situation that will lead to as much destruction as the Johnstown Flood again.

South Fork Little Conemaugh River today.
Doesn’t look menacing, does it?

Wooden railing in center of frame is on what exists of the dam today.

To learn more visit: http://www.nps.gov/jofl/index.htm

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