
In 2016, Harvard University researchers published a study that helped explain the heavy loss of life. The more they struggled, the deeper in the mess they were ensnared."Īmong the dead was a young girl, one of many neighborhood children drawn to the leaky tank with sticks and buckets to collect the sweet molasses oozing from the bottom. "Horses died like so many flies on sticky fly paper. "Only an upheaval, a thrashing about in the sticky mass, showed where any life was," the Boston Post reported. Two tenement occupants, a firefighter, a chauffeur and a blacksmith also were killed, along with horses and other animals. Most of the dead were municipal workers killed while eating lunch at a city building. If a worker stood still for a minute he found himself glued to the ground." Rescuers were "greatly hampered by the oozing flood of molasses which covered the street and the surrounding district to a depth of several inches and slowly drained down into the harbor. "A dull, muffled roar gave but an instant's warning before the top of the tank was blown into the air," The Associated Press reported that day. Those treasured landmarks were spared because they were uphill. It ruptured in the city's oldest neighborhood, a district popular with tourists and locals alike for its warren of ancient streets lined with Italian restaurants and for its historical sites, including Paul Revere's house and the Old North Church. In a stroke of irony, on the day after the disaster, Nebraska became the decisive 36th state to ratify the 18th Amendment outlawing the production, sale and consumption of alcoholic beverages in the U.S. The tank was owned by the Purity Distilling Co., and its syrupy contents were used mostly to make alcohol for wartime munitions but also to produce rum before Prohibition kicked in.
GREAT BOSTON MOLASSES FLOOD PLAQUE SERIES
The tragedy struck as World War I troops were returning from Europe and Boston was still basking in a World Series victory by Babe Ruth's Red Sox. "People's first reaction is, 'Are you serious? Did that really happen?' If it were fire or flood or famine or pestilence, this story would be much better known," he said. Not even Usain Bolt, who clocked just under 28 mph (45 kph) at his world-record fastest, could have sprinted to safety.Īnd yet a century later, the catastrophe remains mired in relative obscurity. The first of it raced through the harborside neighborhood at 35 mph (56 kph). Outrunning the molasses was out of the question. Warehouses and firehouses were pushed around like game pieces on a Monopoly board. The initial wave rose at least 25 feet high (7.6 meters high) - nearly as tall as an NFL goalpost - and it obliterated everything in its path, killing 21 people and injuring 150 others. 15, 1919, when a giant storage tank containing more than 2.3 million gallons (8.7 million liters) of molasses suddenly ruptured, sending a giant wave of goop crashing through the cobblestone streets of the bustling North End. It struck without warning at midday on Jan. The front page of The Boston Post after the molasses flood.
