If They Tell You To Evacuate Before Florence Hits, Do It! Lessons From The Johnstown Flood 1889

My book club's book for this month is David McCollough's The Johnstown Flood.  We've got two The Great Earthquake, which I've already read and posted about.  
disaster books in a row.  Next month is Henry Fountain's

As Florence bears down on the mid-Atlantic, the harrowing scenes I've been reading about seem appropriate.  The Johnstown flood wasn't because of a hurricane, though it did rain for days and those rains brought water higher into the towns along the river than ever before.

But the real horror was the bursting of a damn about 15 miles up the river.  The scenes described by McCullough remind me of the most over-the-top disaster movies.

While some people had concerns about the dam, there had been false alarms about possible dam failure in the past.  (Though it had burst once many years before, but had more recently been rebuilt.)  People were concerned about the rain swollen river, but not too many were concerned about the dam.  But then it burst and a huge wave of water, and increasingly, as it moved along the narrow passage way, trees and houses and train cars.

Here are some accounts from the book, as reminders to those in the path of the hurricane, that it's better to be safe than sorry.

"And these boards were jagged . . . and I looked at my aunt, and they didn't say a word then.  All the praying stopped, and they gasped, and looked down like this, and were gone, immediately gone."
She felt herself falling and reaching out for something to grab on to and trying as best she could to stay afloat.
"I kept paddling and grabbing and spitting and spitting and trying to keep the sticks and dirt and this horrible water out of my mouth."
Somehow she managed to crawl out of a hole in the roof or wall, she never knew which.  All she saw was a glimmer of light, and she scrambled with all her strength to get to it, up what must have been the lath on part of the house underneath one of the gables.  She got through the opening, never knowing what had become of her aunt, Libby, or her baby cousin.  Within seconds the whole house was gone and everyone in it.
The next thing she knew, Gertrude [she was a 6 years old at the time] was whirling about on top of a muddy mattress that was being buoyed up by debris but that kept tilting back and forth as she struggled to get her balance.  She screamed for help.  Then a dead horse slammed against her raft, pitching one end of it up into the air and nearly knocking her off.  She hung on for dear life, until a tree swung by, snagging the horse in its branches before it plunged off with the current in another direction, the dead animal bobbing up and down, up and down, in and out of the water, like a gigantic, gruesome rocking horse.
Weak and shivering with cold, she lay down on the mattress, realizing for the first time that all her clothes had been torn off except for her underwear.  Night was coming on and she was terribly frightened.  She started praying in German, which was the only way she had been taught to pray.
A small white house went sailing by, almost running her down.  She called out to the one man who was riding on top, straddling the peak of the roof and hugging the chimney with both arms.  But he ignored her, or perhaps never heard her, and passed right by.
"You terrible man," she shouted after him.  "I'll never help you."
Then a long roof, which may have been what was left of theArcade Building, came plowing toward her, looking as big as a steamboat and loaded down with perhaps twenty people.  She called out to them, begging someone to save her.  One man started up, but the others seemed determined to stop him.  They held on to him and there was an endless moment of talk back and forth between them as he kept pulling to get free.
Then he pushed loose and jumped into the current.  His head bobbed up, then went under again.  Several times more he came up and went under.  Gertrude kept screaming for him to swim to her.  Then he was heaving himself over the side of her raft, and the two of them headed off downstream, Gertrude nearly strangling him as she clung to his neck.
The big roof in the meantime had gone careening on until it hit what must have been a whirlpool in the current and began spinning round and round.  Then, quite suddenly, it struck something and went down, carrying at least half its passengers with it."

The book doesn't really give good footnotes to document this account.  But we can imagine a six year old (I think of my 5 year old grand daughter) retelling this event, and we know McCullough must have filled in a lot of details here.  Or, if Gertrude retold this many years later, the story must have taken on a life of its own in all the retellings.  Nevertheless, it was a horrible scene as the houses that weren't totally destroyed when the wave hit, floated in the current with people in or on them hurtling toward likely death.

William Tice, who owned a drugstore on Portage street, described what he saw soon after he ha been fished out of the water near the bridge.
"I went on the embankment and looked across the bridge which was filled full of debris, and on it were thousands of men, women, and children, who were screaming and yelling for help as at this time the debris was on fire, and after each crash, there was a moment of silence, and those voices would again be heard crying in vain for the help that came not.  At each crash hundreds were forced under and slain.
"I saw hundreds of them as the flames approached throw up their hands and fall backward into the fire, and those who had escaped drowning were reserved for the more horrible fate of being burned to death.  At last I could endure it no longer, an had to leave, as I could see no more."

The fires in the piles of debris, it was speculated, were caused by fuel in train cars and fires in wood stoves of houses swept away.

The Johnstown Flood was a horrible disaster.  McCullough lists 2, 209 victims of the Johnstown Flood.   Whether it's a dam burst tsunami or merely rising rain waters, if you are caught in it, it is equally terrifying.  I'm sure that survivors like  Mr. Tice, quoted above, had nightmares for the rest of their lives.

The death toll for Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico is said to be 1427.  There's a reason that floods are one of the  major biblical catastrophes.

So, people of the mid-Atlantic being told to evacuate.  Do it.  If you want some adventure, read the Johnstown Flood.  It's horrific enough in a book.  You don't need to experience it live.