Once upon a time there was a flood that sprang up in the pre-dawn hours of an early summer’s morning, snatching away lives and houses while wrecking railroads, bridges, and highways. Many reading these words will say, “ah, yes, I remember it well.”
Maybe not. Because we’re speaking of the 1935 flood, which burst forth in the early-morning hours of July 8, eighty years ago this week.
While the 1972 flood arose from the remnants of Hurricane Agnes, the flood of 1935 sprang from several days of heavy rain – the earth and the watercourses just couldn’t hold any more.
As in 1972, the waters broke forth while most folks were sound asleep – a factor (in both cases) that contributed to tragedy.
When the 1972 flood struck the Corning-Painted Post area, many people at best got a few minutes of warning. But in 1935 a great many people had no telephone. Scarcely anyone outside the cities and villages had a radio, or even electricity. So for many people, there was no warning at all.
So… what happened?
The Genesee River flooded, inundating Wellsville, Mount Morris, and Rochester.
Crosby Creek, Bennett’s Creek, and the Canisteo River flooded, putting much of Hornell underwater. Hornell was an important rail center, and this flood ripped many of the lines to shreds. Farther downstream, Addison too was flooded.
The Conhocton River flowed into the grounds of the “Soldiers Home,” or Bath V.A. All of downtown Bath flooded, with people using canoes and rowboats out as far as the post office at William and Liberty Streets. A few steps up Liberty, the flood spared the municipal building by literally the width of the sidewalk. Davenport Library was in the flooded zone, leading to the loss of historic documents. Once again, railroad lines were wrecked. Upstream and downstream, Kanona and Savona flooded.
Most of Hammondsport village was inundated. Some streets, most of them still unpaved, were gouged into canyons. The churches, many homes, and the downtown business district were all trashed.
Torrents pouring out of the Glen tore through the Mallory Mill and its grounds, where Roualet Wine Company had stored casks of brandy. These were dumped all across the village as far down as the waterfront, leading to numerous local family legends as to who got the casks, how they got them, and what they did with them afterward. (Roualet went bankrupt.)
Cataracts rushing out through Watkins Glen tore away the state park gatehouse, and carried it down toward Seneca Lake. Ithaca flooded.
Farm livestock was carried away from Coopers Plains.
Painted Post and Corning flooded on both sides of the Chemung River, including Market Street, Corning Glass Works, and Ingersoll Rand. Rising water threatened the painstakingly-made 200-inch disc for Mount Palomar observatory, which was in the midst of a months-long cooling period. Rising water forced Glass Works men to move the generator that powered temperature-control equipment, meaning no control at all for several days. To everyone’s relief, the disc came through unscathed.
Elmira flooded. Owego flooded. Binghamton flooded. As in 1972, it would take a week or more just to sort out what had happened, and where everybody was.
Governor Lehman rushed to the area, as did Red Cross, Salvation Army, and National Guard. Hornell Armory and Hammondsport Presbyterian Church were two of many local centers where drinking water was trucked in. This was the midst of the Depression, but men with horse teams suddenly found themselves (and their animals) in high demand for cleanup and construction work.
This was a hydrologically-complex flood… actually a widespread set of simultaneous separate floods. One, for instance, occupied the north-flowing Genesee River and its tributaries. A separate flood flowed from the east-running Conhocton-Canisteo-Chemung System. Another flood followed the west-flowing Susquehanna and its tributaries. Three separate floods engulfed Hammondsport, Ithaca, and Watkins Glen.
New Deal programs set to work ameliorating the problem. C.C.C. (Civilian Conservation Corps) boys worked on hoe-and-shovel drainage projects, while Alfred and Almond dams were soon rising. The 1972 flood, believe it or not, would have been worse without this earlier work.
And, believe it or not, 1935 was arguably worse than 1972, with forty-four dead region-wide, as opposed to nineteen. Of course, the 1935 flood WAS essentially a regional event, while the total nationwide death toll from Hurricane Agnes was around 130, plus more in the West Indies. Since only 37 years separated the two disasters, a great many people in 1972 must have experienced an utterly horrifying déjà vu.