Opera, Book, and Kindle

Three recent new works explore aspects of the 1913 flood in Columbus, Indianapolis, and Dayton

Virtually all books, videos, and other works about the Great Easter 1913 Flood focus on its monumental death and destruction, most often in the context of one locality. Few encompass the multistate geographical scale of the natural catastrophe, and almost none explore its human toll through time as families struggled to come to terms with total loss.

That all changed February 8–10, 2019, with the world premiere of an ambitious original opera called The Flood—giving three performances to a packed Southern Theatre (seating capacity 900) in Columbus, Ohio.

The project was supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts; the music was composed by Korine Fujiwara, commissioned by OPERA America’s Opera Grants for Female Composers program; the libretto was written by Stephen Wadsworth (who, among other things, had written A Quiet Place with Leonard Bernstein). It was co-produced by Opera Columbus and ProMusica Chamber Orchestra. The singers’ backgrounds included education at Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London and the Juilliard School in New York City (among others), and performances with the New York Philharmonic and Philadelphia Orchestra.

Warning: plot spoilers ahead.

The one-act opera The Flood was set in four interiors at different eras to reveal how later generations of a family seek to resolve the trauma suffered by ancestors during the 1913 flood. Before the Saturday evening performance at the Southern Theatre in Columbus, Ohio, historian Trudy E. Bell set the wider context of the 1913 flood to audience members. Credit: Roxana Bell

The Flood is set in two Columbus neighborhoods: Franklinton—hardest hit by the 1913 flood—and Hilltop. Although librettist Wadsworth had immersed himself in the history of the flood in Columbus—whose death toll was equivalent to that in more famous Dayton—the story is much more universal. Thus, the fictional characters and their situations are composites, and knowledge about specific historical settings is not critical to understanding the drama. More important is how the tragedy of loss ricochets through four generations of an extended family over a century: 1913, 1940, 1970, and 2014.

In the new opera The Flood, tragedy befalling a woman in the 1913 flood (left) plays out in the later life of her former lover in 1940 (right). Photo: The Wall Street Journal

The eras are not depicted successively in acts. The opera unfolds in one act, with the different eras depicted in four interiors on the stage simultaneously—especially poignant in revealing how trauma from the past can cripple love for the present or future, can engender future pain(or forgetting), and can trigger how people wrestle with ghosts. Time is fluid, and future interacts with past. It is a substantial, meaty work; I truly wish I could have seen it twice—once to absorb the plot and a second time to more closely follow the complexities of the loves and losses and rediscoveries.

The father in 1940 (left), who had lost his first wife and children in the 1913 flood, rejects the daughter of his second marriage, who ends up in an insane asylum by 1970 (middle). She leaves the asylum to marry, and eventually dies, but years later her own daughter discovers her mother’s tragic secret in 2014 (right). Credit: Columbus Underground

Because the play is in no way a history of the 1913 flood, the Friday and Saturday evening performances and the Sunday matinee were all preceded by a scene-setting “talkback” by different guest speakers who recounted aspects of the history of the 1913 flood. Two (for Friday and Sunday) were local experts sketching its history in Columbus, and I (for Saturday night) outlined its wider context.

Interviews with some of the creators and some of the music sung by the performers can be heard in this 7.5-minute video preview. (A 30-second teaser is here.)

The Flood is a significant work, and to be highly recommended if it comes to your city. Reviews of the weekend’s performances were published not only in local outlets (including  The Columbus Dispatch and Radio OSU) but also in The Wall Street Journal.

Police in Indianapolis

Patrick Pearsey, archivist for the Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department, has expanded his research—some of it summarized for this research blog in April 2016 in his guest post “Men of the Hour”—into an entire book titled The Time of Heroes: The Great Flood of 1913 and the Indianapolis Police Department (no date, but privately published in 2018).

The book chronologically outlines what happened in Indianapolis during the 1913 flood from March 21 through 30, focusing on the especially disastrous days of March 25–27. In Pearsey’s words, “When the Washington Street Bridge collapsed on the 26th, the city was cut in two. Marooned on the west side of the raging White River was Captain George V. Coffin and a handful of police officers. Faced with rescuing, feeding and clothing over 7,000 people that week, what these men did became the Indianapolis’s Police Department’s finest hour.”

The large-print book is 425 pages long and features some 200 photographs. Print-on-demand copies can be purchased from Amazon. 

A Day in Dayton

Corpses in Trees and Rats on a Raft: The Great Dayton Flood of 1913, compiled by Danny Z. Kiel, is a transcription of the special “flood edition” of the Dayton Daily News published on April 2, 1913. That issue was likely the first attempt by anyone in 1913 to summarize the drama of the flood in some kind of coherent narrative—preceding the “instant books” that began to appear in late April (see “Profiting from Pain”). The original newspaper issue was a makeshift affair, which resulted in many typesetting errors that Kiel has sought to correct in his 77-page transcript.

Published in 2016, the work does not appear to exist as a printed book. A 99-cent Kindle version is available on Amazon (along with a preview and introduction). 

Happy reading!

©2019 Trudy E. Bell

Bell, Trudy E., The Great Dayton Flood of 1913, Arcadia Publishing, 2008. Picture book of nearly 200 images of the flood in Dayton, rescue efforts, recovery, and the construction of the Miami Conservancy District dry dams for flood control, including several pictures of Cox. (Author’s shameless marketing plug: Copies are available directly from me for the cover price of $21.99 plus $4.00 shipping, complete with inscription of your choice; for details, e-mail me), or order from the publisher.

[Note: I am in the midst of an unrelated book project that is currently claiming most of my time, but am posting here as often as possible. Feel free to contact me re the Great Easter 1913 natural catastrophe.]

Mailing (and Faking!) Disaster

Postcards published and sold just days after the 1913 flood sent actual photographs—and faked images!!—of Dayton’s destruction, and that in other Ohio cities, to friends and family all around the nation.

Out of the blue some weeks ago, on March 21 (2018)—105 years to the day after the horrific Good Friday windstorm decimated wireline communications and set up Ohio and the Midwest for much greater destruction without warning two days later, on Easter Sunday, March 23, 1913 (see “The First Punch”)—I received a brief email message from one Elaine Luck: 

 I just shared a picture postcard of John Bell from my personal postcard collection in the Ohio Vintage Postcard Group and would like permission to share a link to your online article: “Our National Calamity” with the Group. Also if you like, since a lot of our members collect postcards from the 1913 Flood, I would be happy to tell our members about your book The Great Dayton Flood of 1913, Arcadia Publishing, 2008. If you are on facebook, please take a look at our Group. I am very impressed with your work and invite you to join us.

  Pleasantly surprised, I replied:

Thank you for your kind words. I trust you mean the story of John Bell in “Heroism of the ‘Hello Girls’”? More information about what John Bell actually, physically did is in one of the very early posts “The Governor’s Ear.”

It dawned on me then that people in the Ohio Vintage Postcards Group might have other picture postcards depicting the 1913 flood around Ohio—and that they might be seeking more information about the individual scenes photographed. So, with Elaine’s encouragement, I posted an invitation to the group, inviting them to contact me “if you would like me to delve into the background of particular postcards you may have.”

Some of the resulting detective sleuthing ended up uncovering big surprises. Jil Loewit posted an image of a fire over the flood, asking, “I would like more info about this postcard please.”

This RPCC, uploaded by Jil Loewit, depicts a scene
that was faked a century before PhotoShop!

No one was more surprised than I with what emerged from my research. I replied:
 

After 3-4 hours of sleuthing, I’m pretty confident in stating that the scene in this image never happened – or at least, not in the way depicted. For a fact, fires from gas explosions broke out in Dayton, and for a fact people used cables in rescues (see “High Wire Horror”) – but this view of both happening in one scene is almost surely a pre-Photoshop doctored image. What initially suggested that was the fact that I already possessed a thumbnail image I found years ago that varies in details (see below).

Note how the image is cropped differently and the smoke billows higher into the sky and the colors differ.

But today I also found what appears to be the original photo of the scene in Marshall Everett’s 1913 instant book Tragic Story of America’s Greatest Disaster. Now, these instant disaster books are problematic in their own way (see “Profiting from Pain”), but in this case the photo reveals how the postcard is a doctored image. Even though the photo (from the copy of the book I own) highlights a cable rescue, no boat of figures is shown using the cable.

Note how the grouping of people at left is nearer and smaller. Most importantly, there is no burning building in the background because the street has a sight-line all the way to the horizon, where some figures are standing atop some wreckage. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen other variants on this scene as well!

Jil also posted another image that puzzled her. She asked: “Can you please tell me who these men were? Is one of them Patterson?” 

By ‘Patterson,’ she was referring to John H. Patterson, founder and head of National Cash Register (NCR), Dayton’s largest employer (locally nicknamed “the Cash”); thousands flooded out of their homes climbed to the hilltop corporation to safety—a rescue story that instantly went viral around the nation, and that ultimately rescued Patterson himself from doing time in Federal prison. I replied:

None of these men is John H. Patterson, who was 69, slight, vigorous, with a bushy white moustache (see “The Villain Who Stole the Flood,” third photo down – Patterson is the older gentleman in the center, wearing a dark coat).  It’s barely possible, however, that the middle figure on the rooftop could be Patterson’s right-hand man, Edward A. Deeds, who succeeded him as head of NCR – a good photo of both Patterson and Deeds is at the Dayton Metro Library’s Flickr site.

Jil Loewit also posted a picture postcard of people being rescued in a flat-bottomed boat, noting, “Dayton Flood of 1913. Happened this week 105 years ago!”

She added a modern photo of a museum exhibit, writing, “Here is a reproduction of what those boats looked like. I assume none of them survived. This photo was taken at Carillon Historical Park in Dayton, Ohio. They have a whole building dedicated to the Dayton Flood of 1913. The man in the photo lost his life while rescuing others.”

Those flat-bottomed boats were likely the most significant thing Patterson did through NCR, as they saved thousands of lives. Their story started around 6:45 AM on Tuesday, March 25, 1913, after Dayton had been deluged with 48 hours of record rainfall since Easter Sunday. Patterson and a group of executives climbed to the roof of the NCR building to survey the swollen Miami River, whose level they saw was dangerously nearing the tops of its containing levees. 

At that moment, Patterson predicted great disaster to Dayton and famously stated, “I now declare NCR out of commission, and I proclaim the Citizen’s Relief Association!” and he began barking out orders to make preparations. Just hours later, the levees burst, sending walls of water through the streets of downtown Dayton. 

Among Patterson’s orders barked out was a command to NCR’s carpenters to start building as many rescue boats as possible. Working night and day and turning out several per hour, the NCR carpenters ultimately constructed nearly 300 flat-bottomed boats. They had a shallow draft and were very stable, allowing half a dozen people at a time to be rowed to safety. 

Re the replica in the Carillon Museum and Jil’s speculation about no surviving originals: I’m pretty sure that at least one of the actual boats may still exist. In 2007, when I was in Dayton doing photo research for my book The Great Dayton Flood of 1913 (Arcadia, 2008), I spent several days poring through flood photos at the NCR archives preserved at Dayton History. At that time, local historian Curt Dalton (author of several books on the 1913 flood) showed the surviving boat to me where it stood against a wall. What struck me was how, even though the rather battered craft had been roughly cleaned for storage, small patches of flood mud still seemed to be visible.

Walter Jung: “Third Street East, After the Flood and Fires,
March 25, 1913, Dayton Ohio - unused real photo postcard.”
Comment from Elaine Luck: “I've never before seen a
1913 flood card showing the aftermath. Great Card!”

The memory of the 1913 flood is alive and well in Dayton, whose story has a happy ending because of the monumental Miami Valley Conservancy District’s mammoth flood-protection system (see “Morgan’s Cowboys” and “Morgan’s Pyramids”). In 1922, Engineering Record awarded the Miami Conservancy District’s flood protection system its distinguished Project of the Year Award, placing it in the company of such other international engineering design feats as the Brooklyn Bridge (1883) and the Eiffel Tower (1889), as well as the later Golden Gate Bridge (1937), the Gateway Arch (1965), and the Channel Tunnel (1994). And in 1972, the five earthen dams were designated a National Historic Civil Engineering Landmark.

Beyond Dayton 

But the 1913 flood did not stop at Dayton’s city limits. Neither did postcard photographers. Worse hit than Dayton in terms of flood deaths per capita population was Hamilton (Butler County) farther down the Great Miami River. 

This flood scene of downtown Hamilton, a postcard uploaded to Ohio Vintage Postcards by Greg Eyler, could easily be mistaken for downtown Dayton because of the similarity of the building architecture and globe street lamps. Note Hamilton’s partially submerged Butler County Soldiers, Sailors, and Pioneers Monument at the end of the street

The official death toll in both cities was about 100, but Hamilton had less than a third of Dayton’s population; death tolls everywhere were widely underestimated (see “‘Death Rode Ruthless’”); and a tally by long-time Hamilton historian Jim Blount indicates the death toll in Hamilton might have been closer to 300).

Greg Eyler uploaded a real picture postcard (RPPC) of Hamilton taken on the second day of the deluge, March 26, 1913 (above). He wrote:

Downtown’s High Street looking west at the intersection of High and Third Streets. Image taken from the First National Bank Building. On the left side of this postcard the Masonic Building and the Rentschler Building -which is located on the southeast corner of High and Second Streets - are standing strong. In the next block the front of the Butler County Courthouse is visible. Water is from 7 to 12 feet deep on the city’s main public thoroughfare, flowing about 20 miles an hour. You will notice the water stands halfway up the lampposts. This photograph was produced by Jacobi and Berry, a photography studio operating out of 308 High Street. Information Source: Hamilton's Disastrous Flood - 100 Photographic Views (a picture booklet), published by C. S. Jacobi, First National Bank Building, Hamilton, Ohio. Copyright 1913

Mark Kittinger uploaded a slightly different view taken a few days later after the floodwaters had somewhat receded, writing, “Here's a RPPC I recently found showing the aftermath of the 1913 flood in Hamilton, Ohio. A National Guardsman with rifle can be seen standing in the rubble near the trolley tracks.” Note the torn-up pavement.

Piqua and Troy north of Dayton, some 25 miles up the Great Miami River, also were hammered a day earlier than Dayton. Elaine Luck uploaded an RPPC she described as “Piqua Ohio, Miami County, RR. Bridge, probably 1913 Flood.” Indeed, it is. It shows the Pennsylvania Railroad Bridge, looking toward East Piqua, a residential area.

Railroad officials tried to keep the bridge from being swept away by parking heavy freight cars on it—a tactic used in many locales and that often worked. In this case, work previously done on the railroad weakened the earthen approach to the east. When that gave way, new concrete piers installed for a replacement bridge diverted the river into the adjacent residential area. After the flood, many residents filed lawsuits against the railroad. RPPC from Elaine Luck.

But the flood was also far vaster than the Miami Valley. It engulfed much of the entire state of Ohio. Indeed, the 1913 flood and associated tornadoes devastated parts of 15 states (one major focus of my research for 15 years has been to determine its full extent and consequences). Postcards from cities around Ohio document the extent of its widespread destruction. 

One of the most dramatic images was on this RPPC of Lods Street in Akron (Summit County) along the Little Cuyahoga River, posted by Elaine Luck (at right). The photo itself testifies to the sheer force of the floodwaters through Akron, some 200 miles northeast of Dayton. Moreover, the postcard was postmarked April 5, 1913. Now, the floodwaters had not receded most places until around March 28 or even later, indicating that photographers already had developed their film or glass plates, printed postcards, and distributed them for sale in just days. 

Interestingly, that Akron postcard was addressed to a recipient in Seville (Medina County), which itself also suffered during the flood, as shown in another postcard Elaine posted (at left).

Mary L. McClure wrote: “One of the 1913 flood stories I read involved Silver Lake Park near Akron/Cuyahoga Falls. Water flooded the bear pits, where the famous Silver Lake black bears were housed. The park's owners retrieved the bears and put them in their home until they could be safely returned to their rightful place.” McClure is herself an Arcadia author, having written the book Silver Lake Park (2014).

All these 1913 flood postcards from Ohio Vintage Postcards Group members inspired me to search for more on my own. Knowing that Zanesville was hard hit, I Googled on the city’s name and found this postcard of men rowing down the city’s flooded streets for sale on ebay (at right).

I found way too many to mention in this one ONC post, but one I cannot resist, in part to correct the record. This famous image of the freighter William Henry Mack destroying Cleveland’s West Third Street Bridge (see “‘Clevelanders Responding Nobly’”) was turned into a RPPC:

The postcard’s caption is erroneous. The freighter itself destroyed the bridge. The Mack broke away from its moorings upriver and was swept downstream, getting wedged under the bridge; the powerful turbulence of the Cuyhaoga River kept pitching the bow of the freighter like a lever arm, in about four hours prying Cleveland’s West Third Street Bridge off its supports and into the river. Credit: The Cleveland Memory Project 

On the Ohio Vintage Postcards Group, Robert Gardner marveled, 

It is almost unbelievable how many cities and towns in Ohio (maybe other states also) that were flooded during the 1913 flood. The canal system was permanently put out of commission from it. The post cards of the day are really the only reminder of it. Thank god the computer wasn't invented yet or all the pictures would be obsolete by now as they would have been stored in a format that no modern computer could read.

Elaine Luck uploaded this image of tumbled houses, identifying it as, “Columbus Ohio, Franklin County, 1913 Flood View, PU1913 with a message on back referring to the casualties.” To which David Fry commented: “These are such surreal images. What these poor people had to endure.” More about Columbus is in "Wireless to the Rescue! Birth of Emergency Radio"

He is absolutely right. Without  much effort, I found RPPCs of the 1913 flood from Ashtabula County to Portsmouth to a gold mine of 1913 flood postcards in and around AuGlaize (Defiance County). 

Antwerp (on the Maumee River near the Indiana border),
from Elaine Luck

Statewide disaster, indeed.

Altogether, the Ohio Vintage Postcards Group generously posted some 30 or 40 RPPC images of the 1913 flood and its aftermath, far more than I can mention and display in this one blog post. But you can view them all, along with the full online conversation and people’s comments, from this link—as well as e-meet Elaine Luck, the group’s administrator, and perhaps join and upload RPPCs of your own! Let me know if you do!

Dave Sapienza uploaded this image, noting: “1913 flood disaster,
Marietta Ohio.” To which Judnick Postcards commented,
“Photos taken during a flood put the photographer at
considerable risk. They are therefore much better than the aftermath shots.”

P.S. For 139 more postcard images of the 1913 flood, many from Ohio, see this major site by Ray Thomas; his two pictorial overviews show thumbnails of all the images that you can click to enlarge. Moreover, this month’s single ONC post doesn’t begin to explore postcards from Indiana, Kentucky, Nebraska, and so many other states also devastated by the 1913 tornadoes and flood. If you wish to share your own Great Easter 1913 natural disaster images from states other than Ohio, I’d love to hear from you. 

Keep those cards and letters coming, folks!

©2018 Trudy E. Bell

Next time: Desperate Medicine

 

Bell, Trudy E., The Great Dayton Flood of 1913, Arcadia Publishing, 2008. Picture book of nearly 200 images of the flood in Dayton, rescue efforts, recovery, and the construction of the Miami Conservancy District dry dams for flood control, including several pictures of Cox. (Author’s shameless marketing plug: Copies are available directly from me for the cover price of $21.99 plus $4.00 shipping, complete with inscription of your choice; for details, e-mail me), or order from the publisher.

Reader Talk-Back

Readers ask about the role of Gorge Dam in saving Akron during the 1913 flood, a mystery medal of honor, a great grandfather in Indianapolis who was a flood hero, and more. Some queries stump me—does another reader know? 

In November 2012, this research blog was inaugurated in anticipation of the centennial of the Great Easter 1913 tornadoes and flood—the nation’s virtually forgotten but arguably most widespread natural disaster, afflicting at least 15 states. The blog’s title ‘Our National Calamity’ (ONC) was inspired by the title of one of the “instant books” published in April 1913, which was itself inspired by President Woodrow Wilson’s appeal to the nation for aid.

As this June 1, 2016, installment marks its fiftieth (50th!) post, it seems fitting to pause for a moment’s reflection and to share some thoughtful reader feedback and queries that other readers may be able to help answer.

So far, ONC has attracted more than 70,000 views, now averaging 2,500 to 3,000 per month. Credit: Stats and graphic by Google Blogspot.

For three and a half years, ONC has sought to highlight original research by others in addition to myself into any and all aspects of the disaster and its consequences, documenting sources as much as possible. So far, ONC has featured the research of two meteorologists (Sarah Jamison and Evan Kuchera), police historian Patrick R.Pearsey, disaster demographer Susan L. Cutter, flood engineer Kenneth E. Smith, historians Richard Davies and Ron E. Withers,  and several muralists—notably Robert Dafford—immortalizing history through public art on floodwalls. It has also highlighted many recent local history books and films in four posts (on March 26, 2013 for the centennial and then annually every January 1). Invitation: If any historian, meteorologist, collector, or other expert or reader has identified or researched an undertold aspect of the Great Easter 1913 natural disaster and its immediate or long-term consequences, please e-mail me—I’d love to hear from you!

According to stats maintained by Google Blogspot, ONC has attracted more than 70,000 views since its creation, now averaging 2,500 to 3,000 per month. The record-setting post was that of January 1, 2016, which drew more than 5,000 views that month—nearly 200 more than the previous record of the March 2013 centennial month. More than 40,000 of the lifetime views are from the United States, but a surprising number are also from Russia, the Ukraine, and Europe. 

Reader comments—and queries

Response to a blog is always dicey, as there are way too many illiterate posters (some of whom clearly have not read the post to which they are responding) who simply want to advertise their own products or make some other irrelevant comment. That clutter I delete. But valuable feedback and queries have come from readers who have taken the time to send an e-mail. It belatedly occurs to me that some inquiries are of potentially wider interest to others as well. Therefore, a few reader queries from over the lifetime of ONC are reproduced below, older requests alternating with newer ones where the older requests contain information of perennial interest. 

Important: Some historical questions from readers I have been unable to answer myself (not every historical resource is accessible online). So I heartily encourage other readers to e-mail me if they can offer any insights at all—including amplifying on an answer I may have given. To protect the privacy of the correspondents in this public forum, I have omitted last names, locations, and e-mail addresses below, but will forward your response to the relevant person offline. Who knows, some correspondence may become the subject of a future post (or a follow-up response in a future reader forum installment)!

On April 12, 2016, the following very interesting query arrived from retired professional engineer George F.:

I am writing to ask whether you have any information or opinion about this question: Would the damage in Akron and downstream have been greater if the Gorge Dam, built in 1912, had not been in place? If the pool behind the Gorge Dam had been full by the time of the 1913 flood, I suppose the dam would not have been much protection for Akron.  I hope you can find some information about it.

The 425-foot-long Gorge Metropolitan Park Dam in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, is also called the First Energy Dam. Credit: ideastream

I found your webpage because of my effort to modify the current plan to demolish the Gorge Dam.  My interest in the 1913 flood and the dam is not entirely impartial. I agree that the Cuyahoga River should be returned to its natural course in Akron, but that does not require removal of the dam.  It could be turned into a bridge, providing a thrilling view of the park sixty feet above the rushing river, with a sight line for thousands of feet up and down that beautiful valley.  No one would forget the experience.  A bridge would allow full freedom for the river and the fish and the kayakers, and it would probably cost a good deal less to convert the dam into a bridge than it would to remove it.  The bridge might even be designed to serve as a dam during an emergency.

In any case, the sediment must be removed first.  There is a way to do that using the power of the river.  For information, Google ‘Condit Dam.’  As they did at Condit, drill a small tunnel at the base of the dam, but put a control valve on it.  Then the water flow could be regulated to flush the sediment down the pipeline in stages.  This would be better in several ways than pumping the sediment over the dam from a barge, as currently proposed. <snip>

Best regards, George F.

Dear George F.: I am not a civil engineer so cannot comment on the relative merits of various approaches to clearing out the sediment from behind Gorge Metropolitan Park Dam (now also called the First Energy Dam) or to assess the dam’s role during the 1913 flood. However, maybe another reader can assist with your quest for information as to whether the damage in Akron and downstream would have been greater if the Gorge Dam had not been in place? Please e-mail answers or leads; I will forward them to George F. –T.E.B.

Below is an early reader query (from August 23, 2013) asking a question that often arises, so this forum gives me an opportunity to answer publicly:

Subject: Brinkhaven (Brink Haven) Ohio deaths during the 1913 Flood

I am trying to find the number of deaths in the small town of Brinkman, Ohio during the 1913 flood. Cemetery listings and death tolls tended to center around the larger cities, although Brink Haven did receive some flourish because of the tragic events. I could find 6 total deaths utilizing archived newspapers and cemetery listings at Hibbet Cemetery, but I did not know if you kept a listing of more?

Thanks so much-- Jannette Q.

Reader Jannette Q. has written about Brink Haven during the 1913 flood.

Dear Jannette Q: Out of a dozen official reports from 1913, I found only one that specifically mentioned Brink Haven: on April 3, 1913, when a team of Ohio State health officials visited Brink Haven, three people were reported missing . However, ascertaining a precise death toll from such a massive natural disaster as the Great Easter 1913 flood (or tornadoes) is extremely difficult, even within a single small town such as Brink Haven. The fast-rising, torrential flooding was so ferocious that bodies were simply swept away. Some were found weeks or months later, but were so mangled and decomposed that they could not be definitively identified. Some people initially reported missing or dead later found their way home. Conversely, other deaths may never have been tallied, notably those who were not drowned but were severely injured during the flood but died weeks or months later. For these and many additional reasons outlined in “‘Death Rode Ruthless…’” I have become convinced that official death statistics should be regarded only as minimum numbers—and that the actual counts were likely much higher. 

Sleuthing out counts closer to real numbers in Brink Haven or elsewhere would require searching through newspapers and county coroner records in every city and small town in 15 states—an enormous undertaking that I have not done (but could make a great thesis project for one or more grad students). It would be worth the effort, however: In March 2013, Jim Blount—the historian of Hamilton, Ohio, a city devastated worse than Dayton during the flood—recounted to me how years earlier (possibly for the flood’s 75th anniversary in 1988) when he was a newspaper reporter, he and the county coroner spent a day going through Hamilton death records for 1913. They identified 200 to 300 deaths clearly attributed or attributable to the flood, even though Hamilton’s “official” flood death toll is usually given as under 100 (unfortunately, Blount said his notes from that research are long gone). For the centennial in 2013 (and the post “‘Death Rode Ruthless…’”), however, I meticulously compiled Excel spreadsheets of deaths and property damage tallied in a dozen official and semi-official reports (whose statistics, by the way, contradict one another as often as they supplement one another). 

Your findings of 6 deaths rather than 3 in Brink Haven is consonant with Blount’s experience in Hamilton. Thus, I would love to hear more about your research and what you have found out about the circumstances of the flood deaths in Brink Haven. –T.E.B.

Two cousins independently responded on May 12, 2016 to Patrick R. Pearsey’s guest post “Men of the Hour”; one included a query of general interest:

[T]he interesting article ["Men of the Hour"]…was especially interesting to me because I saw my Great Grand Father’s name on the IPD 1913 Flood Roll of Honor. His name was Charles A. Barmfuhrer.

I have a question about a photo I saw of him that had “Inspector” on his hat.  What exactly is an Inspector?

Thank you for posting this Flood Roll of Honor.

I recognized another policeman’s name in the Flood Roll of Honor as one of my Great Grandfather’s Pall Bearers: Lieutenant Herbert R. Fletcher. He was listed in his Funeral Memory Book.

Thank you again for the information. Sharon C. 

 

Short bio of Inspector Barmfuhrer by Patrick R. Pearsey.

Patrick R. Pearsey replies: “Inspector was a rank used by the Indianapolis Police Department (IPD) from about 1913 to 1969. It was a high rank, basically the 2nd highest rank next to Chief of Police. The Inspector often stepped in as Acting Chief of Police. I wrote a power point presentation about all known IPD inspectors which includes a bio of Charles Barmfuhrer. Thanks for your interest and comments on the article.”

An older query from December 12, 2014, might still interest a number of readers:

Hi. I came across your website today when I was doing a little research on the Flood of 1913. First, I think it is awesome that you have done all this research on something that was so significant! Second, I was wondering if you came across any information/pictures specific to Delphos, Ohio. I only have one picture. It is of my great-grandmother and her family waiting on their porch, I guess for someone to come and get them. The floodwaters are near the steps of the porch. I just haven't had any success finding any pictures/information about the Flood's effect on Delphos from here in Kentucky.

Thanks for reading! Tina B.

1913 flood at Fisher's Stone Quarry in Delphos, Ohio. Credit: Delphos Historical Society

Dear Tina B.: Some photographs and articles from the Delphos Herald about the 1913 flood in Delphos, Ohio, appears at “The Delphos Flood—1913” by Robert Holdgreve of the Delphos Historical Society. There also seems to be a collection of photographic negatives of Delphos in the collection of Bowling Green State University. If you don’t find what you are seeking on those actual web pages, try contacting the Delphos Historical Society or BGSU directly; I’ve found that archivists can be very helpful in a situation like this. Good luck, and let me know what you learn. –T.E.B.

On May 15, 2016, this comment arrived, unfortunately signed “Unknown” with a “noreply” e-mail address:

I was tipped off that you appeared on [Michael] Feldman’s show. Glad you were able to be picked from the audience and be part of the broadcast [listen beginning at 1:33:24 here]. Several years ago I wrote an article for a local newsletter about the exploits of a local ham operator calling for help in Columbus. He’s been since identified as the first use of amateur radio in the time of disaster. So many great stories link to this event. Keep up the great work!

Dear Unknown: It sounds as though you are referring to 15-year-old Herbert V. Akerberg, about whom I wrote in the ONC installment “Wireless to the Rescue” on April 1, 2014. He actually was not the first, but was one of maybe a dozen

Akerberg's first message in
the March 26 Columbus Citizen

ham radio operators who were able to summon aid during the communications blackout over Easter weekend (see “The First Punch”). He was also one of the youngest. As a result of the heroic actions of all the ham radio operators during the 1913 flood, Congress and other organizations began to move to establish a nationwide system of emergency radio. Thanks for your interest. –T.E.B.

A request that I could not answer from August 18, 2014, but perhaps readers can help:

My name is Christy, and I was born in Dayton, Ohio (though now live in NJ).  In the process of preparing to move to a retirement home, my parents have come across a number of items from their family, one of which is puzzling us.  I have attached images to this email, but the item in question appears to be a 1”x1” medallion, presented to a “Mr Kirby” in 1913.  

Inch square medal from 1913 apparently awarded to Elijah Kirby, possibly for heroism during the 1913 flood. Does any reader have any idea about what organization struck and awarded the medals? Credit: Christy K.V.

We are certain this references Elijah Kirby, my great-great grandfather.  My father believes this item is somehow connected to the Dayton Flood, but isn’t certain of that, and doesn’t know anything more about its origins/meaning.  Seeing as how I am a history teacher, my parents have set me on the task of doing some research.  I found your blogs—and given your comprehensive coverage of this event, I figured if my dad were correct about its connection, you might be able to help us understand what this medallion (if that’s even the word for it) is.

I thank you in advance for any assistance you can provide to us! Christy K. V.

Dear Christy K.V.: I was unable to find any satisfying answer online, but not every historical document or photograph has been scanned and posted to be publicly available. Where did Elijah Kirby work and live in late March 1913? In an instance such as this, I would see if there might be any record through his employer (especially if it happened to be NCR or Delco) to see if the company awarded medals. Also, contact the Dayton Metro Library, which has an extensive collection of documents and artifacts about the 1913 flood, along with knowledgeable archivists who might be able to provide you with useful leads. Another source would be Dayton History, which has preserved thousands of photos from the NCR archives. Last, if another reader knows of another recipient of this medal and can provide a great lead, please email me and I will forward your response to Christy. Good luck, and let me know what you find. –T.E.B.

On April 18, 2016, this brief message—not sure whether it was responding to a specific installment—arrived:

From: “Mike”
Subject: Dayton flood 1913 resources

Don’t forget Alan Eckert’s “a time of terror”. 1965.  Great book. Mike

Dear Mike: A Time of Terror by Allan W. Eckert is a rocketing read by a Dayton newspaper reporter, published a couple years after the 50th anniversary of the flood, about the first flood week in Dayton. Although based on newspaper reports, the narrative is fictionalized in an early example of subjective reportage that came to be called “new journalism” (made famous by Tom Wolfe in The Right Stuff and other works) and a progenitor of what is now sometimes called literary nonfiction. As a result of that creative narrative approach, sources are not footnoted or otherwise indicated, and Eckert himself said he invented dialogue in the book, so it is hard to tell what is factual and what has been dramatized. Thus, it is best enjoyed not as history but as a “docudrama”—one that also inspired the play 1913: The Great Dayton Flood 

The play 1913: The Great Dayton Flood was inspired by Allan W. Eckert's 1965 book A Time of Terror. Credit: Wright State University

most recently performed at Wright State University in January 2013 during the centennial year. A Time of Terror was one of the first books I read on the 1913 flood more than a decade ago; it (along with 20 other works) is summarized in my first ‘book report.’ Its full text is available online. It is not forgotten! –T.E.B.

The seven queries above are just a portion of the correspondence from readers. It only belatedly occurred to me that an occasional “letters to the editor” type of installment might be of wider interest to other ONC readers. But I also try to stop writing when the word count exceeds 2,500 words! Thus, additional reader comments and queries will have to wait for a future post. 

If you can contribute insights of suggestions to answer a reader query, or if you have a question of your own, or if you like/dislike the idea of an occasional “reader mailbag,” just let me know. And if you are pursuing research of your own about any aspect of the Great Easter 1913 natural disaster and/or its consequences, let me repeat my earlier invitation: don’t be shy. Let me know whether you would be interested in contributing a guest post for ONC!

Next time: Crisis Communications in a Communications Crisis

 

Bell, Trudy E., The Great Dayton Flood of 1913, Arcadia Publishing, 2008. Picture book of nearly 200 images of the flood in Dayton, rescue efforts, recovery, and the construction of the Miami Conservancy District dry dams for flood control, including several pictures of Cox. (Author’s shameless marketing plug: Copies are available directly from me for the cover price of $21.99 plus shipping, complete with inscription of your choice; for details, e-mail me at t.e.bell@ieee.org )