The Great Molasses Flood of 1919
A deadly wave of molasses swept through Boston’s North End in 1919, leaving devastation in its wake and a sticky mark on American history.
On January 15, 1919, just after midday, residents of Boston’s North End heard a loud rumble that some mistook for a train derailment or explosion. In reality, the disaster was much stranger: a massive storage tank holding more than 2.3 million gallons of molasses had burst open, unleashing a dark, sticky flood that raced through the streets at a speed of up to 35 miles per hour. An enormous wave, measuring up to 25 feet high at its peak, careened through the neighborhood, toppling buildings and throwing people, horses, and wagons in all directions.
The tank belonged to the Purity Distilling Company, which used molasses to make industrial alcohol, a lucrative business as the United States neared the start of Prohibition. Located at 529 Commercial Street, the steel tank had been built hurriedly in 1915, and workers and residents near it had complained for years about leaks, even hearing ominous groans as it was filled to capacity. Nevertheless, little was done to improve its safety beyond painting it a dark color to conceal the leaks from public view.
The disaster struck just after a fresh shipment of molasses had filled the tank almost to the brim. A sudden increase in temperature following a cold snap may have caused the molasses to ferment, raising the pressure inside the tank rapidly. When the steel structure finally failed, the resulting wave demolished buildings, crushed freight cars, and uprooted the elevated train tracks nearby. Windows shattered, vehicles were swept away, and the deluge swept through the tightly packed immigrant neighborhood without warning.
The effects were disastrous. Twenty-one people died immediately or from injuries sustained during the flood, and more than 150 others were hurt. First responders struggled to rescue those trapped under debris and within the molasses, which soon began to cool and harden, making any movement—or escape—excruciatingly difficult. For days, rescue workers dug through ruins coated in a viscous, sticky slime, and the sweet smell of molasses lingered in the air for months.
Cleanup efforts proved nearly as monumental as the initial disaster. Firefighters sprayed seawater from Boston Harbor across the streets to dilute the molasses and wash it away, and workers tracked the residue everywhere, even spreading it unknowingly to subway platforms, homes, and businesses. Locals joked for decades that on hot summer days, the North End still smelled faintly of molasses, a memory of the tidal wave that forever changed the city.
The event, while tragic, became a landmark moment in the development of building safety and accountability in the United States. Investigations and ensuing lawsuits revealed poor oversight, insufficient inspections, and structural defects as the primary causes of the failure. The legal proceedings resulting from the disaster, which ended in a settlement against the United States Industrial Alcohol Company, set important precedents for corporate liability and the regulation of industrial construction. In its aftermath, Boston and American cities at large moved toward stricter engineering standards and safety protocols requiring qualified oversight for large-scale projects of all kinds.
Though the Great Molasses Flood might sound to modern ears like something out of a tall tale or children’s story, it was a harrowing real-life tragedy with far-reaching consequences—now largely forgotten outside of Boston, but an essential chapter in the country’s industrial and legal history.
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