A Roar Like Thunder

On the first night Tim and I camped at Outflow Campground, a beautiful Corps of Engineers facility just below the Youghiogheny River Lake near Confluence, Pennsylvania, we heard a siren go off around 9:30 p.m.

I looked at Tim with concern, wondering if the dam that towers over the campground was giving way.  Tim assured me if that was the reason for the alarm, we'd already be swept down the river.  Needless to say, I did not sleep well that night.

Later we learned that the siren was a signal to kayakers and fishermen that the level of the river was rising due to the release of water through the outlet of the dam.

Despite the rush of water released through the outflow, there was no reason for us to be concerned.

Lithograph courtesy of the Johnstown Flood National Monument

So when we visited the National Park Service memorial of the Johnstown Flood the next day, it was with the knowledge that we, too, are living currently in a floodplain.  Perhaps that's why the history of the 1889 Johnstown Flood where 2,209 people lost their lives had such an immediacy for me.  They also had little warning of the doom they faced, nothing other than the low rumble that grew, so survivors said, to a "roar like thunder."  Later, the blame for the loss of life and property was cast in several directions.

Situated at the fork of the Little Conemaugh and Stonycreek rivers, Johnstown, Pennsylvania was a steel company town where Cambria Iron Company produced more steel than Pittsburgh and Cleveland in 1860.  Its growing population had stripped lumber from the surrounding forested mountains to raise buildings and homes that encroached upon the riverbanks.  Minor flooding was common.

If you look carefully, you may see the observation decks at both ends of what used to be the dam.

There was also concern that the South Fork Dam located 14 miles up the Little Conemaugh River was poorly maintained.  The dam held the 2.5-mile long Lake Conemaugh on the side of a mountain at an elevation that was 450 feet higher than Johnstown.  Originally, the lake was built to supply water for the Pennsylvania Main Line Canal, but when the canal system was abandoned, its dam was left to the whims of nature.

Clubhouse of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club.
Photo courtesy of the Johnstown Flood National Monument

That is, until the lake was bought in 1879 by the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, an exclusive group of wealthy Pittsburgh men that included Andrew Carnegie, although he rarely, if ever, spent much time there.  Daniel Morrell, president of Cambria Iron, asked the South Fork Club to strengthen the dam, but the club's president refused, saying "You and your people are in no danger from our enterprise."

The view across the valley that once held Lake Conemaugh

On the morning of May 31, 1889, Elias Unger (the current president of the South Fork Club) awoke to the sight of a lake swollen after a night of torrential rain.  Horrified, he saw that the water nearly crested the dam.  He gathered a group of men (mostly Italian workers from the club) to try to plug the leaks with whatever materials they could find.

A telegraph message warning Johnstown of the impending danger went out at 12:00 p.m., but the winds and rain had taken down all the telegraph lines from the Mineral Point tower to the city.

Drawing courtesy of the Johnstown Flood National Monument

At 3:15 p.m. the South Fork Dam gave way.  In minutes the lake was gone, and in less than an hour a devastating wall of water 30-60 feet high hit the city of Johnstown 14 miles downstream.  As soon as the floodwaters receded, rescue workers began searching for survivors and dead.  Bodies from the 1889 flood would be found as late as 1911, and as far away as Cincinnati, Ohio.

The question of who was to blame for the disaster was never satisfactorily answered.  The feeling stirred up by newspapers throughout America in 1889 was that the club was indeed responsible and should be held accountable for the state of the dam.  However, one engineering study made on the dam after the flood concluded that even had the dam been properly repaired, the unprecedented amount of rainfall from the May 30-31 storm was more than the earthen structure could have contained.

I'm just thankful that the dam above our campground still holds.  With any luck, we'll be safe for the remaining three days of our reservations here.  Cross your fingers!