THE GREAT FLOOD
Rains from hurricane brought devastation in 1916
by Dwight Frady
Editor
Hardly anyone is around any more who can remember the flood of 1916 in these parts. It was one of the worst disasters to ever befall Gaston County and all of western North Carolina.
It will be 78 years ago next month when it happened. After the farmers had suffered through one of the driest, hottest springs and summers anyone could recall, a few clouds appeared on July 8. The following day the sun began to cast pale shadows for the first time in over 60 days. On the morning of July 10, gray clouds gathered in the west. Before noon, it started to rain.
That night, grateful farmers slept to the tune of rain on tin roofs. On the morning of July 11, the ground was soaked. Then it rained on and off for five days, from the morning of the 10th until the morning of the 15th.
It had all been caused by a hurricane which blew in off the coast and camped over Asheville. In many places in the mountains, it had rained 22.1 inches in 24 hours.
At least 10 lives were lost in this area, six bridges washed out and millions of dollars in damage suffered. Newspaper reports from that time said that Gaston County was completely cut off from the rest of the world except for telegraph service from the south and two trains a day from Atlanta.
Freight service had to be discontinued and if you wanted to go to Charlotte it was necessary to swim because the six bridges of the muddy Catawba had been destroyed or badly damaged.
Conservative estimates in a July 19, 1916, newspaper story had already placed Gaston County’s loss in bridges and roads alone at $250,000. The following bridges in Gaston County were damaged and destroyed as the result of the floods:
Sloan’s Ferry bridge, $35,000.
Rozelle’s Bridge was a total loss, $5,999.
McAdenville bridge, $20,000.
Vestal Ford bridge, $8,000.
Sadler’s Creek bridge, $6,000.
Armstrong’s Ford bridge, $50.
The collapse of highway and railroad bridges isolated Gaston County just as if it were an island. The high water caused power stations to fail, disruption of telephone and telegraph service except to the south.
The entire western part of the state suffered untold damage and hardship due to the high water. Estimates of damage from Asheville reached $10,000,000.
Shelby and Kings Mountain also suffered from rising water. Mount Holly suffered perhaps the most damage of all the Gaston County communities. The Armon Manufacturing Co. plant at Mountain Island was completely washed away, warehouse company store and plant with an estimated loss of $350,000. This included 1,000 bales of cotton for which the company offered a $10 reward. Several were recovered, but most were lost.
The water in Mount Holly rose all the way into what is now downtown. It came as far as the old Fletcher’s Esso Station and on the way covered up several mills, including the old Mount Holly Mill and the Woodlawn Mill.
Dutchman’s Creek overflowed and it was possible for several days to go from downtown Mount Holly all the way to the Woodlawn Mill paddling a boat. The place where the Triangle Service Station stands was covered by 12 feet of water.
The rain subsided on Saturday and the real damage didn’t come until a dam broke somewhere above Mount Holly and the people there were warned that they could expected [sic] at least two or more feet of water.
The three bridges at Mount Holly began to crumble Sunday afternoon and by 10 p.m. on Sunday night the new Mount Holly bridge built jointly by Gaston and Mecklenburg counties two years earlier fell.
Witnesses reported that houses from the Mountain Island Mill would hit the pilings of the bridge whole and come up on the other side as planking.
It was a week before the water had receded any appreciable amount. A train scheduled to go on through to Charlotte was delayed and had to be backed up into the draw beside the schoolhouse so it wouldn’t get wet.
It was two years before a new highway bridge was constructed. At first the people of Mount Holly had to be satisfied with a ferry service. Several individuals were not too happy about this and got together to build a pine-pole bridge to replace the ferry. It was a toll bridge.
In Belmont there were several eyewitnesses to the collapse of the Southern Railroad bridge. Early Sunday, railroad officials ordered a train to the scene to help anchor the bridge. While the train was on the bridge, trash began to build up against the cross pilings, and a crew was sent down to free as much as they could.
The engineer had strict orders to pull the train off the bridge at the first sign of weakening. About 10 p.m. the engineer noticed that the bridge was beginning to sway. He immediately blew the train whistle to warn the men below and began backing off the trestle.
Just as the train was clear, the bridge began to crumble. The twenty men didn’t have time to reach the top of the bridge before it went and all were swept away in the swirling waters.
Witnesses at the scene reported that the cries of the men could be heard all night. They had been swept downstream and some had been lucky enough to grab hold of the top branches of the few trees that were still above water.
Rescue operations were all futile. Boats were floated down the river in the hopes that the men would be able to grasp them and save themselves, but the boats were smashed and sank before they could reach the men.
Some brave souls even tried to take a boat and attempt to rescue some of the drowning men. They ended up with the others, hanging on to a tree branch or anything else they could find.
All the boats that were available had been used in the futile efforts to save the men Sunday night, so several of the men got together and built a large and sturdy craft during the night.
There were two volunteers to take the boat out to see if they could help. They were two black men, Fons Ross and Peter Stowe of Belmont.
These men managed to reach several of the stranded men and haul them to safety, but the boat wouldn’t allow them to make more than two trips, bringing in three men on each trip.
Ross and Stowe got on their knees and prayed before making each perilous trip into the river in their boat. The Charlotte Observer hailed Ross and Stowe as heroes and raised over $500 in their behalf from whites and blacks alike.
None of the men worked for the railroad, but they gave Fons Ross the job of watching the crossing at Belmont, a position he held until he died many years later.
The collapse of the bridge claimed the lives of ten men. People came from miles away to see the havoc reaked [sic] by the flood waters. It was a holiday to them and many even brought picnic lunches.
Several businessmen in Belmont organized a company to build a toll bridge so that Belmont would not remain cut off. The bridge was erected in good order, but it wasn’t long before the rising waters brought it down too.
W.R. Ford was commissioned to build a second bridge which he had up within ten days of the time he was given the job. It stood until the new bridge was erected.
Ford was quoted as saying, “The biggest part of my crop was covered a day or so before the bridge went out. I remember the last corn I gathered was in a row boat. I was supposed to sell it up town the next day. No, I don’t know just how deep the water was in feet. But it was two feet higher than the hand rails on the concrete bridge that still stands next to the boulevard.
“The boulevard wasn’t there then; the old road made a curve off where the bridge stands now and crossed the concrete bridge. My father-in-law, J.M. Sloan, lived on a hill right were the boulevard (Wilkinson) is cut now. It was kinda high but the water got up over the hill and under the floor of his house. They had to move up town but the water didn’t get in the house.”
George Bowen lived where the Piedmont Processing plant of Dixie Yarns is now located. He was one of the great number who lost their bottom land crops.
Hurl Horsley, co-owner of Stowe Mercantile Co. in Belmont, was working for the same firm then. The flood did not effect him because of the work he was doing. Horsley spent the worst day of the flood watching the river.
He said, “That sure was a mess. The water was rising, taking everything it could reach with it. It seemed to spread over everything in a matter of hours.
“I think a dam broke up in the mountains and turned all that excess water in the rivers. We have a good many people living right here in Belmont whose parents came here after the water washed the mills away as far up the river as 50 and 60 miles.
“The Climax mill was just going into business then and they sure got the help they needed. It was just a terrible mess for a while until things settled down a little”
J.C. Armstrong worked for W.R. Ford Hardware in Belmont as a station hand at the railroad station downtown. He handled the mail as it came in and went out.
After the bridge washed out they had to shuttle train passengers from Belmont to Love’s Crossing in Mecklenburg. A ferry was used for quite a while to cross the river until a toll bridge was built.
J.C.’s father, Jasper L. Armstrong, was farming along the South Fork river below Cramerton. All their bottom land crops were lost that year. “Lots of people think that was the only high water ever seen in these parts,” J.C. said, “but my dad was an old fellow at that time. He talked about seeing it that high 30 odd years before the 1916 flood.”
Graham Dixon of Stowe Mercantile was quoted in a 1954 article by Burgess Howard in The Banner and the News. Graham and his wife were eyewitnesses when the railroad bridge went out.
“It sounded like a pistol shot when it gave way and something like a dust rose as it fell. There was a lot of trash and rubbish washed against the bridge from upstream.
“A lot of railroad workers had gone on the bridge and under it to try and clean up. They even pulled a train on it to help hold it down. As the bridge began to weaken, they drove the train off. It had hardly gotten clear when the bridge fell, taking a number of men with it (as described earlier in the story).”
The storm, centered over Asheville, completely devastated that city and nearby Biltmore. Bat Cave and Chimney Rock had gigantic mud slides.
In the mountains the rich soil was so foundered with water it occasionally shot “water sprouts” straight up.
On July 16, at 5 p.m. in the Mountain Island community, the river was at its highest, an unbelievable 50 feet above normal level.
C.E. Hutchinson, owner of the Mountain Island mill, stood at the edge of the water with tears streaming down his cheeks. He said, “Well, it’s gone…gone!” Some man standing there said, “Yeah, it sure looks like it.”
Little did the two men mourning passing of a textile patriarch know that this was a blessing in Gaston County. A dam would be built there which would bring millions of dollars to them and their children…and progress.
Millions and millions of dollars worth of property and crop damage was done in western North Carolina. Lives were lost along with livelihoods. Roasting corn was just ripening and many farmers never got the first load out of the field.
On July 21, the water was inside the banks again. Rebuilding was begun. It was a big day when the South Fork River bridge was repaired. The train came in and all the townspeople threw their hands into the air and yelled out of pure joy. They were going to get potatoes again. The lowly potato had disappeared from Gaston County - eaten.
The mill at Mountain Island was only a memory. At Tuckaseege [sic] the mill looked like a wilderness. Mud on the floor was eight inches deep. All machinery had to be sandpapered.
Many machines had broken legs and were standing at strange angles. On the wall hanging just as he left it was the coat to the first “long suit” of Little Stowe Huffstetler. Just as he left it - except the pockets were full of river mud.
With all the modern flood prevention methods of today, it is very unlikely that a flood of the 1916 magnitude will ever happen here again.
THE BELMONT BANNER - THE MOUNT HOLLY NEWS
Wednesday, June 29, 1994
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