

The tank's owner, United States Industrial Alcohol, had been warned that the tank was leaking. although that detail didn't matter to those who died. Ironically, the molasses in this particular tank was to be used for distilled alcohol, not rum. The tank that exploded in 1919 was the city's largest. As a result, the distillers needed lots of molasses. Ship owners, plantation owners, and distillers made fortunes by trafficking people, sugar, and rum.Įven after the slave trade finally ended, Boston continued to produce vast quantities of rum. The ships then carried the slaves to the islands, sold them to work on the plantations, and then returned to Boston filled with more molasses. New England ships carried the rum to Africa, and traded rum for slaves. Plantations on the English colonies of Jamaica and Barbados grew sugar, processed it into molasses, and shipped it to Boston where local distillers turned it into rum. Why did Boston store so much molasses in a tank?īoston had long been a major molasses center and was a major player in the "triangular" trade dealing in molasses, rum, and slaves.

In World War I, it had also been used in making some munitions. It has some nutritional value and is used to produce products such as cattle feed and rum - and of course it's a key cooking ingredient for things like gingerbread, ginger cookies, Boston brown bread, and Boston baked beans. In case you're wondering exactly what molasses is, it's the residue that's left over after sugar cane is boiled to extract sugar. When you buy through our links, we may earn a commission at no additional cost for you. Top Photo: Destruction in Boston's North End under the elevated tracks after a tidal wave of molasses swept down the street - Photo credit: Public domainīoston Discovery Guide is a reader-supported publication. The explosion sent what an eyewitness called a “30 foot wall of goo” (later determined to have been about 40 feet) down Commercial Street at a speed estimated to be 35 mph.Īs the gooey mess covered the neighborhood and spread out in a 2-to-3 foot thick layer across downtown, it buried and drowned people and animals in its path. The explosion also created a vacuum immediately after the initial blast, which destroyed even more buildings, dragged a truck across a street, and pulled a train off the tracks. The force of the explosion caused some buildings to collapse and knocked others off their foundations. Some of them cut the steel girders of an elevated railway. Metal rivets 1/2 inch thick were torn apart and flew through air like shrapnel. Shortly after noon in Boston's North End, a rusty, already-leaking tank containing 2.3 million gallons of fermenting, smelly, sticky molasses at the bottom of Copp's Hill exploded. On January 15th, the outdoor temperature rose to an unusually (for Boston in January) balmy 45° F. The Great Molasses Flood of 1919, Boston's version of Pompeii, surely ranks as one of the city's worst disasters - and it's hard to think of a ghastlier one.
