Summer Smith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
somethingwithturquoise) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomhigh2024-11-15 06:36 am
somethingwithturquoise) wrote in fandomhigh2024-11-15 06:36 am
The Weird, Wonderful, and WTF World - Friday, First Period [11/15].
The class was meeting in the Danger Shop again this week, and they'd find themselves in a recreation of Boston, but, like, all old-timey like. Not historically accurate, because Summer couldn't be bothered by all that, but they were specifically outside of a factory-looking building on an old-timey street, specifically 529 Commercial Street near Keany Square, in the year 1919. There was a large boat nearby, as well, but all seemed fairly quiet and calm.
For now.
"We're diving into another Weird and What The Fuck, but not all that Wonderful bit of history unless you're a real weirdo," not looking at anyone in the class, doo doo doo, "and I was hoping that we could do something like a museum about it, or something, but it turns out that the only thing the city has done to commemorate it was putting up a blink-and-you-miss-it plaque on a wall. So! We're doing the historical recreation route! Welcome to Boston! The date is January 15th and the year is 1919, and that building, home of the Purity Distilling Company, is about to explode....with molasses.
"So I recommend we all get into this boat so we can ride the wave....not what would have happened back then, of course, but we're taking educational liberties here...because today we're talking about Boston's Great Molasses Flood."
As everyone made their way to the boat (hopefully!), Summer continued. "You see," she said, "molasses can be fermented to make ethanol, which is something used in both alcohol and munitions. AKA blowing shit up. Now, the tank at the distillery had just been filled by a recent shipment, and it had been unseasonably warm this day. 40 degrees Fahrenheit, to be exact, when temperatures should be well below freezing, or at least much closer to it. So there was a good chance that the much colder molasses inside the tank had a bit of thermal expansion due to the warmer weather, and the next thing you know...."
The students would suddenly feel the ground shake, and, with a loud roar and a long rumble similar to the passing of an elevated train, the tank collapsed. There was another tremendous crashing, followed by a deep growling, and then a thunder-clap of a bang like a machine gun as dark rivulets of molasses started springing out of the building.
"Now," said Summer, as the molasses started to fill the street and lift the boat up with it, "molasses is, clearly, way denser than water, so as it gushed out of the building and into the streets, it was even more of a force to be reckoned with that your average tidal wave! We're talking tearing down buildings and crushing them. We're talking filling several blocks with up to three feet of molasses. Which is also, by the way, pretty melty and sticky at this point, too, so anyone caught in it? Good luck! Apparently, there were a lot of horses that got caught up in the flow especially, which if you know my own personal horse girl tendencies, is particularly tragic. That includes people, too, swept up in a wave of literal molasses."
All of that was, of course, toned down for the class. It was mostly like some bizarre amusement part ride taking them through the streets of Boston.
"Anyway, the Navy from a nearby training school rushed in to try and pull survivors out of the molasses flood, with all the challenges that went along with that, and this is where it gets particularly grizzled, but some of the victims that were pulled out were so glazed over that they weren't even recognizable, and some had been swept out into the harbor and weren't found for up to four months later.
"119 residents of the area ended up suing the pants off of the distillery company for the whole incident, who then tried to claim that anarchists did it, actually, but they were all like, 'yeah, no,' and awarded $7000 to the victims' families, which is like almost $123,000 in today's money, so that ain't half bad, and you'll always have one hell of a story to tell at parties now.
"The cleanup, as you imagine, was a whole ass effort and took three weeks for the immediate area, and even longer for the outlying areas affected by it, and the harbor was brown with molasses all the way until the summertime. It was reported that for months, it felt like anything a Bostonian touched was sticky, which is, like, a personal nightmare for me, so I'd have moved and never come back, like don't even get me started on how this place must have smelled that whole time, too. Overall, though, there were only about 21 deaths from the whole thing, which, all things considered, feels pretty lucky, and we came out of it with some pretty new moves toward business standards and legal compensation, so there's always that.
"Anyway, so, in conclusion," she reached for a box in the boat, "I made molasses cookies for us to enjoy, and if you guys want, you can go see what it's like to be caught in a molasses flood or if you're really into living history, see what it's like to rescue some people and horses from the molasses flood or just experience the clean-up efforts. It's all just a sandbox from here.
"Well," she corrected herself, "a molasses box."
For now.
"We're diving into another Weird and What The Fuck, but not all that Wonderful bit of history unless you're a real weirdo," not looking at anyone in the class, doo doo doo, "and I was hoping that we could do something like a museum about it, or something, but it turns out that the only thing the city has done to commemorate it was putting up a blink-and-you-miss-it plaque on a wall. So! We're doing the historical recreation route! Welcome to Boston! The date is January 15th and the year is 1919, and that building, home of the Purity Distilling Company, is about to explode....with molasses.
"So I recommend we all get into this boat so we can ride the wave....not what would have happened back then, of course, but we're taking educational liberties here...because today we're talking about Boston's Great Molasses Flood."
As everyone made their way to the boat (hopefully!), Summer continued. "You see," she said, "molasses can be fermented to make ethanol, which is something used in both alcohol and munitions. AKA blowing shit up. Now, the tank at the distillery had just been filled by a recent shipment, and it had been unseasonably warm this day. 40 degrees Fahrenheit, to be exact, when temperatures should be well below freezing, or at least much closer to it. So there was a good chance that the much colder molasses inside the tank had a bit of thermal expansion due to the warmer weather, and the next thing you know...."
The students would suddenly feel the ground shake, and, with a loud roar and a long rumble similar to the passing of an elevated train, the tank collapsed. There was another tremendous crashing, followed by a deep growling, and then a thunder-clap of a bang like a machine gun as dark rivulets of molasses started springing out of the building.
"Now," said Summer, as the molasses started to fill the street and lift the boat up with it, "molasses is, clearly, way denser than water, so as it gushed out of the building and into the streets, it was even more of a force to be reckoned with that your average tidal wave! We're talking tearing down buildings and crushing them. We're talking filling several blocks with up to three feet of molasses. Which is also, by the way, pretty melty and sticky at this point, too, so anyone caught in it? Good luck! Apparently, there were a lot of horses that got caught up in the flow especially, which if you know my own personal horse girl tendencies, is particularly tragic. That includes people, too, swept up in a wave of literal molasses."
All of that was, of course, toned down for the class. It was mostly like some bizarre amusement part ride taking them through the streets of Boston.
"Anyway, the Navy from a nearby training school rushed in to try and pull survivors out of the molasses flood, with all the challenges that went along with that, and this is where it gets particularly grizzled, but some of the victims that were pulled out were so glazed over that they weren't even recognizable, and some had been swept out into the harbor and weren't found for up to four months later.
"119 residents of the area ended up suing the pants off of the distillery company for the whole incident, who then tried to claim that anarchists did it, actually, but they were all like, 'yeah, no,' and awarded $7000 to the victims' families, which is like almost $123,000 in today's money, so that ain't half bad, and you'll always have one hell of a story to tell at parties now.
"The cleanup, as you imagine, was a whole ass effort and took three weeks for the immediate area, and even longer for the outlying areas affected by it, and the harbor was brown with molasses all the way until the summertime. It was reported that for months, it felt like anything a Bostonian touched was sticky, which is, like, a personal nightmare for me, so I'd have moved and never come back, like don't even get me started on how this place must have smelled that whole time, too. Overall, though, there were only about 21 deaths from the whole thing, which, all things considered, feels pretty lucky, and we came out of it with some pretty new moves toward business standards and legal compensation, so there's always that.
"Anyway, so, in conclusion," she reached for a box in the boat, "I made molasses cookies for us to enjoy, and if you guys want, you can go see what it's like to be caught in a molasses flood or if you're really into living history, see what it's like to rescue some people and horses from the molasses flood or just experience the clean-up efforts. It's all just a sandbox from here.
"Well," she corrected herself, "a molasses box."
Re: Talk to the Teacher - WWWTF, 11/15.
Mostly because it wasn't molasses, though, let's be real.