Disaster

On Christmas Eve 1917, an overcrowded, out-of-control streetcar exited the Mount Washington tunnel, crashing into pedestrians. Twenty-three were killed and more than eighty injured in the worst transit incident in Pittsburgh history. The crash scene on Carson Street was chaotic as physicians turned the railway offices into a makeshift hospital and bystanders frantically sought to remove the injured and strewn bodies from the wreckage. Most of the victims, many women and children, were from the close-knit neighborhoods of Knoxville, Beltzhoover and Mount Oliver. In the aftermath, public outrage over the tragedy led to criminal prosecution, civil suits and the bankruptcy of the Pittsburgh Railways Company, which operated the service. Author Mary Jane Kuffner Hirt explores the tragic history of the Mount Washington transit tunnel disaster.

Southeast Minnesota has regularly felt the wrath of nature.

In 1890, a driving straight-line wind on Lake Pepin overturned the Sea Wing, killing ninety-eight people within minutes in the worst marine tragedy in Minnesota history. In 1940, a raging blizzard trapped duck hunters on islands in the Mississippi River and left motorists stranded across the region, leaving dozens injured or dead. Then, in 1965, flood waters of the Mississippi River and its vast network of tributaries kept area residents in fear for two months, shattering records for high water marks and destroying buildings and farmlands before receding and leaving behind damage that took years to rebuild.

Local author Steve Gardiner examines these powerful natural disasters and their ramifications on the people of Southeast Minnesota.

With more than one thousand books on Hurricane Katrina, somehow not one work examines a collection of Crescent City calamity--until now. Here seven tragedies and their fallout are explored through gripping firsthand interviews, planting readers amid the chaos. Revisit the agony of the Luling ferry disaster, the horror of Pan Am Flight 759 slamming into a Kenner neighborhood and the Mother's Day bus crash on 610 that claimed twenty-two lives. Sift for answers in the unsolved fires of the Rault Center and the UpStairs Lounge. Investigate the Continental Grain elevator explosion and experience the terror of the Howard Johnson's sniper. Join author Royd Anderson on this harrowing journey through New Orleans tragedy.

On the evening of January 2, 2009, Captain Matteo Russo and crewman John Orlando got underway aboard the fifty-four-foot fishing vessel Patriot, from the iconic State Pier in Gloucester, Massachusetts, bound for nearby fishing grounds in search of cod. They never returned.

What happened less than eight hours later on that bitter and dark winter early morning that caused the Patriot to sink? Why did the Coast Guard deliberate more than two hours before launching a rescue mission? Using official documents, numerous interviews and insight as a search and rescue commander, maritime historian Captain W. Russell Webster, USCG (Ret.), expertly documents the tragedy of the Patriot, with startling findings. He deftly explores the condition of “normalcy bias” linked to this heartbreaking case, which can cause people—including Coast Guard personnel—to deny and sometimes over-deliberate threats to human life.

Sailing on the Chesapeake Bay's myriad inlets in summer, it is hard to imagine that come January icebreakers might be plowing the waters you cruised in July.

When portions of the Great Shellfish Bay are iced up the flow of commerce is impeded. At the turn of the 19th century, with the center of the new nation's government established in its arms, a frozen Bay meant that the United States' emergence to a status on par with the foremost nations of the world might be painfully slow. Throughout the 20th century years of extreme cold continued to halt navigation and fishing.

James Foster chronicles the disasters, large and small, which come with the coldest of winters.

On the first of September 1785, with night coming on and the weather deteriorating, the crew of the ship Faithful Steward sailed toward Delaware's notorious False Cape. In the summer of 1785, a group of Irish migrants took to the Atlantic to escape the abuse and persecution of the ruling classes at home. They sought a new life in the United States, a place "where the banner of freedom waved proudly" and "every good was possessed." Their ship was new and sturdy, and its captain had a good reputation. On this voyage, however, it was overloaded with migrant families and a massive cargo of counterfeit coins. By the first of September the ship was lost, somewhere off the mid-Atlantic coast. Michael Timothy Dougherty tells the story of the wreck and the people on board.

In the beginning of the twentieth century, the Connecticut River Valley was a thriving manufacturing hub for fabric, arms and brass. But early in the spring of 1936, nearly two feet of rain created havoc on a massive scale, killing more than one hundred people and leaving tens of thousands homeless, unemployed and without power for weeks. Patrols were conducted in rowboats on city streets. Typhoid and other public health issues complicated recovery efforts. Adjusted for today's standard, damage estimates exceeded $9 billion, and the flood helped launch FDR's Flood Control Act of 1936. Dams, reservoirs and dikes were constructed to control future flooding. Much of that system now remains in place but has gone largely unmaintained. Author Josh Shanley recounts the greatest flood in New England history and examines the potential for future floods.

In 1849, a steamship named after President James Monroe headed from St. Louis to Council Bluffs, Iowa. The passengers were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from Philadelphia. At St. Louis, they were joined with a group of California gold diggers from Jeffersonville, Indiana. But their trip was interrupted when cholera broke out on board. Local fourteen-year-old James McHenry discovered the steamship after it landed at Jefferson City and observed the dead and dying victims along the riverbank. Author Gary Elliott details the history of the outbreak in the city and its far-reaching effects.

New York's crowded beaches can come to halt with the shout of a single word: shark! The shores of Long Island and Staten Island and the waters surrounding Manhattan have had more than thirty shark attacks recorded since the days of New Amsterdam. Legend has it that Antony Van Corlear, Peter Stuyvesant's trusted deputy, was killed by a shark crossing Spuyten Duyvil Creek while blowing his famed trumpet. In the summer of 1916, after a series of bloody encounters along the Jersey Shore, sharks terrorized beachgoers of Sheepshead Bay, frightening the entire region. Two incidents on Fire Island in 2018 within mere hours and miles of each other involved a twelve-year-old and a thirteen-year-old, striking fear in the hearts of parents. Authors Patricia and Robert Heyer chart the history of New York's shark attacks.