If you thought yesterday's snowstorm was rough, try thinking about the wave of molasses that poured through the North End on January 15, 1919. The molasses flood happened when a shoddily built tank burst at the seams, sending waves of molasses through the North End, knocking down homes and crushing people.

The tank held molasses that would later be distilled into industrial alcohol for use in World War I. Twenty-one people died, and many people eventually received damage awards as a result.

Required reading for any Bostonian is Stephen Puleo's Dark Tide: The Great Molasses Flood of 1919. We had the privilege of seeing Puleo speak once, and his exhaustive research not only shows what happens when corporate greed gets the better of common sense but also explores the personalities of the victims and heroes in the disaster. To mark the anniversary of the flood, here is a paragraph from when the flood took place:

[Boston police patrolman Frank] McManus picked up the call box and began his report to headquarters. A few words into it, he heard a machine-gun-like rat-tat-tat sound and an unearthly grinding and scraping, a bleating that sounded like the wail of a wounded beast. McManus stopped talking, turned, and watched in utter disbelief as the giant molasses tank on the wharf seemed to disintegrate before his eyes, disgorging an enormous wall of thick, dark liquid that blackened the sky and snuffed out the daylight.

HubTrotter also writes about the flood and how it is remembered in the North End today.

Image of the Dark Tide cover from Amazon.