110 years apart and helping us understand tragedies that are
part of America’s fabric
Johnstown Flood. Photo courtesy Library of Congress
My girlfriend Craig and I were headed to Chicago for
Thanksgiving and with multiple days to make the trip from Washington DC, we
naturally scanned our map for nearby national park units. Several in Pennsylvania, including memorials
to Flight 93 and the Johnstown Flood, were not too far out of
our way and provided new stamps for our little blue NPS passports. Little did we know that we’d hit the first
winter storm of the season. Slick roads
and blowing snow reminded us that, just like the weather, the events memorialized
in Johnstown and Flight 93 were beyond the control of their victims.
After a beautiful balmy day touring Eisenhower National Historic Site near
Gettysburg, the winds came up and the temperatures dropped as we headed over Highway
22 to Cresson, PA. There was snow on the
ground when we parked next to the railroad tracks across the street from The Station Inn, one of the more unique
lodging establishments we’ve experienced on our visit-all-the-parks odyssey.
This place was great in a very quirky kind of way. Cresson has a history as a major railroad
town and the Station Inn caters to railroad geeks from all over the world who
sit and watch trains pass by the Inn’s windows.
The breakfast conversation was filled with train nuance, like how often
a specific locomotive engine pulled through Cresson. And I thought collecting park stamps was a
bit eccentric!!
Leaving the Station Inn, it snowed most of the morning as we
traveled across a landscape blanketed in white to visit the Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic
Site before heading on to the Johnstown Flood National Memorial a few miles
further down the road. While we were at the mercy of this winter
storm, our little bit of snow didn’t compare to the rainfall that resulted in the
massive dam failure above Johnstown, Pennsylvania on May 31, 1889 that killed more
than 2,200 men, women and children.
Johnstown Flood. Photo courtesy Library of Congress
The Johnstown Flood National Memorial Visitor Center sits on
the hillside just above the historic dam site and provides a good
out-of-the-weather view up the South Fork of the Little Conemaugh River and the
valley that once held Lake Conemaugh. Across
the valley you can still see the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, once a
private resort for rich folks from Pittsburgh perched on what was the historic edge
of the lake. The 1889 clubhouse is now
part of the memorial. Lake Conemaugh was held in place by an earthen dam poorly
maintained by the Club. This was before
federal dam regulations, so no one was paying attention to dam health.
South Fork Hunting & Fishing Club. Photo courtesy NPS
Fourteen miles down valley and 450 feet lower in elevation
was Johnstown, a community of 30,000 people built around the steel industry and
located right in the middle of the flood plain.
Heavy rains weakened the dam to its breaking point and at 3:10 in the
afternoon of May 31, 1889, a 20 million ton wall of water acted like a
battering ram as it roared down valley at speeds of 40 miles an hour. The wall of water and debris reached 75 feet high
where the canyon narrowed. You can only
imagine the destruction when it hit the town.
A train traveling along the river’s edge was tossed around like it was a
toy and its wreckage was intertwined with trees, mud, railroad tracks, livestock,
and remnants of houses and other buildings scattered across a 45 acre debris
field in what was once Johnstown. The
damage was massive.
Inside Johnstown Visitor Center
This is a sobering place, memorializing all those who died in
this tragic disaster. The parks’ movie,
which is not for the faint of heart, does a very good job of instilling the
fear felt by those trapped and overrun by the flood waters. Utilizing vintage Hollywood footage of recreated
floods from the black and white movie era, the Park Service has crafted a film
that has you feeling like you are in the middle of Johnstown in 1889 when the flood
hit. There are only still photographs of
the aftermath, so none of the footage in the film is real, but you sure felt
like it was!
The aftermath and international response to this disaster
are well documented in the Visitor Center’s displays. We spent several hours reading and learning
about how the Red Cross, led by Clara Barton, arrived on-site to help with the
survivors. We learned that over $3.7
million (over $100 million in today’s dollars) was privately collected for
relief from all 38 states at the time and 14 foreign countries, making this
truly an international response to a horrible tragedy. And there was litigation against the South
Fork Hunting and Fishing Club who successfully used the Act of God defense to
avoid any responsibility. Clean-up of
the 45 acres of flood jumbled debris took years, but the town did rebuild. All that is left of the dam are parts of the
earthen embankment on either side of the river, viewed not only from the
visitor center but also from overlooks accessed by short walks on either side
of the valley.
Pathway to dam overview. Photo courtesy NPS
We left Johnstown in a pretty sober mood. But a day of remembrance was to be our theme as
we drove 34 miles south down Highway 160 to the Flight 93 National Memorial and
a more contemporary tragedy.
Most of us still know exactly where we were when the planes
hit the World Trade Center in New York. I
recall the news services updating us that the Pentagon had also been hit. Lost to me at the time, amidst the graphic video
of the Trade Center collapsing, was the fourth hijacked plane that didn’t hit a
populated target. Instead, it crashed in
a farmer’s field in Somerset County, Pennsylvania about 18 minutes from what is
thought to be its intended target, the U.S. Capitol. It was brought down by the
crew and passengers who fought with the hijackers and caused them to crash,
preventing a much larger disaster.
Glide path walkway
The gray snowy day added to the ominousness of the two-story
tall concrete walls that greet you on arrival at the Flight 93 National Memorial
and direct you down the Flight Path Walkway to an overlook of the crash site. As we learned in the visitor center, these large
fins of concrete show the glide path of the plane as the passengers and crew
fought with the hijackers and caused it to crash, killing all 44 onboard.
Glide path overview. Photo courtesy NPS
The crash site itself is memorialized with the Wall of Names
and Memorial Plaza at the edge of the forest and is easily accessed from the
Visitor Center by either a walkway or a short drive. It was still cold and windy out, so we chose
to drive, but we would like to return in nicer weather and walk through the
memorial tree grove that lines the formal walkway. Walking and contemplating what happened here
as you approach the actual crash site memorial seems a more honorable and
respectful way to approach than by car.
Memorial Wall. Photo courtesy NPS
The visitor center itself tells the story of all four planes,
but the focus is on flight 93 and the passengers and crew who died here. The Park Service and the memorial designers have
done an exemplary job of telling the story and providing a comforting place to reflect
on the heroism of the passengers and crew and how the hijackings changed our
world. You can listen to recordings of
messages left on home answering machines by several of the passengers as they
realized their dire predicament. On more
than one occasion I was taking deep breathes to control my emotions. It is a
truly stunning memorial.
The national park system embodies all aspects of our nation,
even the sad stuff. On this day in
November we visited two sites designed to help us remember the people who died
in tragedies that were beyond their control.
Though they were over 110 years apart, both sites also showed the
tremendous community resilience and individual fortitude that define Americans
and have helped us heal and understand both disasters.
