David McCullough – American Disasters

April 7, 2014December 16, 2020

Commemorating the Titanic

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Steven Biel’s discussion on the ways in which the Titanic disaster was commemorated in the years and decades afterwards illustrates how people will inevitably manipulate disasters to their own agenda. Annelies also built upon this argument in her blogpost. As we saw in the first section of the book, feminists and other groups manipulated the narrative of heroism to support different social and political agendas after the disaster.

In the next section of the book, Biel discusses the ways in which the Titanic was commemorated. Through his discussion, it becomes clear that the Titanic grew to symbolize and fill the roles that people needed it to. Through the thirties some interpreted the disaster as proof that traditional gender roles and the doctrine of separate spheres should be maintained. Another conservative narrative that evolved out of the disaster interpreted the Titanic as a symbol of everything that was wrong with modernity. Biel states:

“The disaster, then, continued to do important, if sporadic, cultural work, from reminding men and women of their proper roles and responsibilities at the onset of the Depression to asserting racial equality and exposing racial injustice…” (Biel 139).

We can see this common theme of the manipulation of narratives after disaster stretch across all of the disasters we have studied. McCullough used the Johnstown flood to illuminate the disparity in wealth and the effects of unequal distribution of economic power. Likewise, with the San Francisco earthquake, we can see that ways in which middleclass businessmen and politicians manipulated the narrative to fill their economic and political agendas.

These disasters and the various ways in which they were commemorated suggest the heavy hand people have in the definition of disaster. In many ways, facts are never facts, as they will always be manipulated, intentionally or not, to fill an individual’s narrative. These unique narratives are what give each disaster meaning within the context of the time and what dictates the vivacity with which each individual disaster is remembered.

March 17, 2014December 16, 2020

Isaac’s, Stockman’s, Dunwoody’s, and Moore’s Storm

AJ, as Catherine notes, does a good job at placing the Galveston Hurricane in a larger historical context and understanding its larger significance by arguing, “The era that this event occurred in, the way people went about handling the situation and the eventual misjudged outcome, I believe explains a lot about where disaster preparedness was at the time and showed Americans what desperately needed to change.” In doing so he defends, Isaac, who Catherine once again rightly paints as the books antagonist, by understanding the Hurricane’s human toll as largely resultant of the age rather than the actions of a few individuals. It is also a departure from what I understood to be an argument of Larson’s book; that the extent of the destruction can largely be attributable to issues born from individual decisions, namely those of Isaac Cline, William Stockman, H.C.C. Dunwoody, and Willis Moore. This is well evidenced in Larson’s desire to draw attention to the truthfulness of Isaac’s story concerning the his role in the warning of the hurricane; on page 168 and 169 he discusses how the inconsistencies between Isaac’s claim that his warnings saved the lives of over 6000 people and the possibility that he didn’t actually warn anyone (and even if he had it wouldn’t have saved 6000 lives). In drawing attention to these inconsistencies, he seems to be using the book as a platform to attack the common historical narrative, a narrative that the weather bureau, as the authority on storms, no doubt played a large role in shaping after the hurricane, and to furthermore place some of the blame onto the individuals who he believed to be disproportionately culpable for the massive losses of human life and destruction. This is also evidenced in the way that he constantly discusses the ways in which Morris’ desire for control, Dunwoody’s careerism, and Stockman’s hubris played in creating a society so vulnerable to disaster. While this desire to attribute personal guilt can be seen as a push back against a narrative that largely painted the disaster as a largely unavoidable societal failing and a call for reform, I believe we must additionally understand it as a product of Larson’s writing style. As was discussed in class and as I discussed in my blog post last week, McCullough’s ability to discuss characters without a disproportionate amount of attention paid to each one helped us, or at least me, to understand the Johnstown flood as a product of societal shortcomings. Conversely, Larson constructs his narrative around the thread of Isaac Cline’s life (going so far as to title his book Isaac’s storm, which in itself implies guilt). This narrative style, which puts such a large focus on one character as a sort of case study, seems to be predisposed by framing more individual guilt than a style, such as McCullough’s, which pays such even attention to such a multitude of characters.

March 17, 2014December 16, 2020

A Comparison of the Johnstown Flood, the Galveston Hurricane, And Those Who Portrayed Them

The narrative style Erik Larson employs to describe the Galveston Hurricane of 1900 is, at a rudimentary level, similar to that of David McCullough. Larson, similar to McCullough, does not intertwine footnotes with the text, which as Sarah and Emily argue discounts the reliability of the narrator. The Johnstown Flood however, offers a variety of accounts to provide balance and diversity to the narrative, while Isaac’s Storm emphasizes a dominant narrative fostered by other lesser accounts.

Science also differentiates the two novels: it was heavily stressed in Isaac’s Storm and nearly disregarded in The Johnstown Flood. The description of the formation of a hurricane felt similar to Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything, and I wonder if Larson would have benefited as a historical writer by implementing a citation scheme similar to Bryson’s (Bryson provides footnotes).

The residents of Galveston cultivated a feeling of security similar to that of Johnstown residents. Unlike the Chicago Fire or the Johnstown Flood, the Galveston Hurricane was not preceded by months of foreboding weather. Similar to the residents of Johnstown, the Galvestonians were accustomed to small floods, and severely doubted the likelihood of anything a disaster. However, I believe Johnstown residents to be more ignorant of potential threat, due to a history of flooding and the poor location, than Galveston residents, who had never experienced a hurricane before. Instead of placing partial blame on Galvestonians, Larson expresses his disappointment in the United States Weather Bureau’s confidence and the Cuban weather cable ban. Further, he places blame much more indiscreetly on authorities, including Isaac. Larson transforms the principal character, Isaac, into an antagonist by noting the observation of a decreasing barometric pressure yet neglecting to warn people.

However, all this being said, it is easier to criticize the inaction of meteorologists knowing what we know now about weather patterns and the outcome of the hurricane. AJ phrased it well in his post: “The era that this event occurred in, the way people went about handling the situation and the eventual misjudged outcome, I believe explains a lot about where disaster preparedness was at the time and showed Americans what desperately needed to change.” I understand why Isaac trusted his former knowledge and dismissed the threat of catastrophe.

March 12, 2014December 16, 2020

Societal v. Individual Culpability: Parallels between Johnstown’s and Triangle’s Historical Narratives

As Sarah notes in her post, many historians have critiqued McCullough for his writing style for not being truly historical or academic in nature. While some of this criticism is certainly well deserved, I would like to note that his patchwork style is extremely valuable in the way that it allows us to understand the Johnstown Flood as a structural societal fault, rather than one of individual culpability.

One of the largest takeaways from our class discussion on Tuesday was the way in which McCullough was able to effectively diffuse blame among individuals. This was accomplished by skillfully weaving together a narrative that references a multitude of characters rather than focusing on one character that best represents the narrative that he is hoping to portray. No one person’s action is overly singled out as accountable. Interestingly, The Johnstown’s Flood was still able to single out heroic actions. It is this inability to conclusively find fault and this ability to identify heroes that is of great interest to me, particularly in the way that it parallels the Triangle Factory Fire of 1911. I recently wrote a paper for another class that attempted to argue that the Triangle Fire is so imprinted into the national memory because of its massive juxtaposition between public understanding and legal recourse. To provide some background the Triangle Fire was a factory fire that resulted in the deaths of 146 women. Importantly, it resulted from an improperly constructed building with a faulty fire escape, locked doors that actually prevented workers from escaping, and a complete lack of any fire protocol or oversight by its owners who were repeatedly warned of its dangers. Yet despite seemingly obviously guilt, no one was charged. This to me was the most interesting; the fire seemed to occupy precisely the point in history at which public understanding outpaced legislation. General public understanding acknowledged the insufficiency and evils of factory conditions and the culpability of owners for consciously risking lives to increase profits, yet, despite this public agreement, legal recourse didn’t exist. To public the Triangle Fire clearly the fault of the individual owners, yet legally it was representative of a societal deficiency that individuals couldn’t be held accountable for. In the same way McCulloughs writing style implicitly argues that the Johnstown Flood, regardless of how many seemingly inexcusable individual faults contributed to its destructiveness was, at its core, a structural flaw in society. As tempting as it is to blame the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, after all they were basely responsible for the dam’s dangerous conditions, McCullough prose seems to suggest that the disaster was truly born from structural flaws. This is strongly paralleled by the way that there was a massive public outcry for the condemnation of the factories owners, yet a preceding report had shown that, relative to other garment factories, the Triangle Factory had far from the most dangerous conditions.

March 12, 2014December 16, 2020

Remembering Disaster and a Historian’s Role

A historian analyzes sources and weighs their reliability and accuracy. Emily notes, “David McCullough has been critiqued by historians for not being a ‘real’ or ‘serious’ historian.” While McCullough’s Johnstown Flood is not a “typical” scholarly work, he does occasionally critique or correct stories about the Johnstown flood. For instance at the beginning of chapter 7, McCullough writes that, “Some survivors, years later, would swear it had been a bright, warm morning, with a spotless blue sky” (183). In reality, the weather was “foul” (184). In this instance, people have constructed a memory they honestly think they experience. It is a reminder that diaries and personal accounts, while probably not intentionally lying, may misremember the actual event. With “every one of them[survivors]…brimful of tales of his experiences,” there are bound to be mis-recalled facts or invented memories (207).

Another way facts are skewed is through willfully fabricated details. Much of this fabrication seems to occur in connection with the media. For instance, McCullough writes, “whatever the reporters may have lacked in the way of facts, they made up for in imagination” (220). Sometimes a competing agenda—whether it is selling more newspapers or maybe embellishing a story for appearances’ sake—can cause people to alter the facts.

Besides these two quotes being instances of unreliable memories and accounts of history, they are also two places where McCullough does enter into a more critical historian mode of writing. He does acknowledge that some sources he used had inaccuracies and tries to recreate the probable reality. Of course, for a scholar, this little earmarks are likely not sufficient. McCullough does not give specific citations, nor does he seem to critically analyze every source. This is largely because, as Emily noted, his is a popular history for a general audience. The book can be more entertaining than a theoretical and technical treatise. It can bring historical events, as Emily argues, “to a broader audience than would otherwise be exposed to it.” I wonder if there could ever be a combination of these two tracks? A rigorous, researched, and critical work that is not dry or inaccessible and still manages to entertain? This reminds me a bit of Robert Fisk’s “Let us rebel against poisonous academics and their preposterous claptrap of exclusion.” Essentially, Fisk argues that academics have set up obscure language and certain standards that say “Keep Out…This Is Something You[non-academics/the general population] Are Not Clever Enough to Understand.” Could there be a balance to these two sides or popular literature and scholarly work? Maybe McCullough’s story could stand as it is, but in the back there is a list of sources and the decisions McCullough made about what to include and why? Granted, the work would be extraordinarily long, but it would allow the readers to choose how much they wish to engage in the work. They can simply read the popular story or they may dive into the thought process and analysis behind the work and research.

March 10, 2014December 16, 2020

Where’s the Fault?

Throughout The Johnstown Flood, McCullough alludes to the roles that weak or inattentive authorities played in the flood. He suggested that the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club ignored reports that the dam was weak and a danger to the population (74). Additionally, he repeats throughout the novel that people were desensitized to the possibility of the dam breaking and therefore many authorities as well as civilians discounted reports that there could be or was a problem. McCullough essentially suggests that if authorities had perhaps taken more care in prevention, this entire disaster could have been circumvented.

As the action escalades through chapters 4-6, McCullough readdresses the role of effective and ineffective authority figures in a blatant juxtaposition of the management of two trains at East Conemaugh Yard. McCullough states that the only train to have “no fatalities among its passengers” was the mail train, which was due in large part to the “good sense of the crew” (123). In fact, the conductor of the mail train warned the passengers of the potential danger, giving them the opportunity to prepare for escape. McCullough states that “Warthen… at least made it sound serious” to the people onboard as opposed to the other authority figures who said “that the dam was an old chestnut” and that the people were “not to think any more of it” (123).

McCullough is clearly highlighting the differences effective authority figures can make through his in-depth comparison between Warthen’s decisions in the midst of the disaster as compared to the rest of the conductors. His detailed comparison between the two as well as his repetition of the preparedness of the mail train’s passengers emphasize his belief in the power authorities have in natural disasters. Catherine also mentions the role authorities have in disaster prevention and management in her post.

As we discussed previously in class, it is important to keep in mind that neither man nor nature can be isolated as the cause of a disaster. Rather it is almost exclusively the interplay between these two characters that allows disasters to occur.

March 10, 2014December 16, 2020

Fire and Water: Comparing the Great Chicago Fire with the Johnstown Flood

In some ways, the Johnstown Flood parallels with the Great Chicago fire. There is an element of human neglect and fallibility that contributed to the disasters; Chicago buildings were primarily made of wood or hastily constructed and the dam near Johnstown was not properly maintained. Then there were a few warning signs. Chicago had experienced drought and smaller fires cropped up periodically. Although “most never saw it coming,” some people around Johnstown did get warnings like George Fisher or the engineer trying to decide whether to move his train (143; 102-103). Nature also plays a role in the disasters. In the Chicago fire, winds helped to spread the fire. In the Johnstown flood, torrential downpour broke the dam. Many reactions to the dam’s breaking were similar to the fire in Chicago or the Peshtigo fire. People ran everywhere, shouting in total chaos, as H.M. Bennent observes (104). People tried to outrun the wave like people leapt in the river to save themselves from the fire. As Caschmidt notes, some people attributed these disasters to divine punishment or reward. Father Pernin ties religion into the Great Peshtigo Fire. Some Johnstown people also tied religion to the flood. As Gertrude said, the flood looked “like the Day of Judgment I had seen as a little girl in Bible histories” (161).

One difference between the Great Chicago fire and the Johnstown Flood was the amount of criminal activity. A drawing in McCullough’s book shows criminals robbing the dead (143). The press circulated wild stories about criminals and pillaging. These were soon disproved. Stories about Chicago crime were also fabricated. As jomarsh says “By sensationalizing the ways in which the fire destroyed class boundaries, writers reminded other members of the American upper class that their position, like these Chicagoans…were in constant jeopardy to the whims of God, Nature, and the subsequent horrors of the class intermingling so well represented by the, often fabricated, stories of crime during the fire.” Yet, I can’t help but imagine some of the crime stories in Chicago were true. Personal letters I read on the Great Chicago Fire website described criminals coming into town to take advantage of burned safes. Furthermore, a death proclamation to shoot criminals on sight was instituted. I wonder if there actually was some crime in Johnstown, despite McCullough’s dismissal? Perhaps Johnstown’s location or the nature of the disaster did not lend itself to profitable crimes?

February 19, 2014December 16, 2020

A Feeling of Fresh Perspective

As I was reading the first three chapters of The Johnstown Flood, I felt like I was reading literature, not history. I knew McCullough had the ability to do this, though, as I have read his other works before. I also know almost nothing about the Johnstown flood, so I feel like I can read it from a fresh perspective, getting lost in the story.

With that said, I do not think that McCullough properly places blame while assessing the flood. After reading about many different disasters, their causes, and effects in class, I feel like blame cannot be solely placed on one person or one group of people. A mix of unexpectedness and unpreparedness definitely contributes to disasters, but I do not feel as though a sole party is at fault, especially in the case of the Johnstown flood. McCullough argues that the elites were responsible for the flood, but another historian could argue that the lack of proper building codes that have yet to be put in place by the government. If I were looking at the disaster as a stand alone, I might, like jewarren, place blame on a sole party, but because I have studied multiple different disasters up to this point in the course, I’m much more wary of quickly trying to find a specific cause of the catastrophe. I think McCullough is a great historian and writer, but I am not even sure if I agree with what is on the back cover, which hints at placing blame on the elites, but I guess that making a bold claim makes for more interesting writing, whether or not you agree with it.

February 19, 2014December 16, 2020

Clouding the Water

David McCullough sets the scene by introducing a range of characters from the wealthy to the middle class of Johnstown. Setting up the scene allows McCullough to give narratives that provide background information that sets up the reader for the disaster that is going to occur.

Location of Johnstown is important when understanding the flood and the severity of its impact on the town. As Sarah mentions in her post, Johnstown was an area that was exposed to and prone to unexpected rains and windstorms. The location in a valley makes Johnstown specifically susceptible to flooding. Comparing the Chicago Fire of 1871 and the Johnstown Flood of 1889 many similarities can be drawn. Both places had natural elements that made them vulnerable to hazardous elements whether it is fire or rain. Catherine points out that there are many parallels between the two disasters, in both the Fire and the Flood the often threats of damage, but no actual harm caused people to become immune to the actual threats of a serious fire or flooding. More specifically in Johnstown, there were many written accounts of the threats that were given to the South Fork dam. “In 1881, the dam threw a terrific scare into the people in the valley. On the morning of June 10, during a flash flood, a rumor spread through Johnstown that the damn was about to break.” (63) Throughout the years until 1889 there was not much cause for alarm because the threats of calamity only proved to be rumors. So, in the wake of a disaster people are disorganized and are not fully aware of the dangers.

Touching upon the aspect of blame, I disagree with Sarah post because in this instance there are people who can be held accountable. Ignorance and focus on capital, reputation and pride that a person holds often clouds the vision of doing what is right. There were many opportunities for the dam to be fixed, and as hindsight is always 20/20 there were telltale signs of a dam that needed amending. Thus far, McCullough has presented the information about Benjamin Ruff who was in charge of the restoration of the old dam. Ruff was put off by the findings of John Fulton, associate to Daniel Morrell (a man who held a high reputation), who sent Fulton to check the status of the South Fork dam. Fulton saw the faults of the dam, the erosion and lack of upkeep, gave great concerns to urgent correcting the issues. Ruff was put off by Fulton’s findings and disregarded his suggestions as he saw Fulton as less then competent. While the blame is not solely on Ruff, it was people with his attitude that accompanied to the devastation of the flood.

February 19, 2014December 16, 2020

Flood Versus Disaster: The Creation of the Johnstown Flood of 1889

The Johnstown Flood of 1889 is an “accident” that draws parallels to the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 because of human interaction with and development of the land, and human hesitation to acknowledge the preceding signs. McCullough’s geological notes regarding the speed of urbanization and tree removal on hill slope porosity describe how the development of the city quickened the speed at which the water arrived in Johnstown. This is a common problem that continues into today. Historically, rivers have big floods every 10 years, and massive floods every 100 years that widen and extend the river channel. The flood is severe, but afterwards the land gets to rest for the next 100 years. Urbanization messes up this cycle by making rainfall reach river channels quicker, and therefore increasing the volume of water in the riverbed in a shorter amount of time. The rapid industrialization of steel mills and subsequent population boom in Johnstown after the canal construction reduced the time it took water to reach the city and exacerbated the flood.

Similar to how Pernin and Smith note the small fires that broke out before the Great Fire, McCullough notes the heavy rain that occurred months before the Great Flood. Additionally, McCullough observes that in 1864 the dam broke for the first time. As Sarah points out, neglect of dam maintenance led to the eventual collapse, but the growth of the city led to a higher death toll. While the people of Johnstown did not doubt the potential of flooding, they had grown accustomed to this scare. For these two reasons: urbanization and precipitation patterns, I cannot place all the blame on the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Elite.

It is frustrating to read about the ironies McCullough presents, including the capitalists vacationing to South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club in order to free their cluttered minds from work; and how the capitalists, who commanded and encouraged construction of the dam, were not physically affected with the eventual collapse of the dam, however this disaster did not lie entire in the hands of the rich.