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56 pages

English

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We might think humans have control over our environment, but Mother Nature has proven us wrong again and again.Earth, Wind, Fire, and Rain: Real Tales of Temperamental Elements tells the story of five of America's deadliest natural disasters that were made worse by human error, ignorance, and greed. For example, in the fall of 1871, loggers and farmers chopped trees and burned brush in the vast forest around Peshtigo, Wisconsin. Fire was a tool they believed they could control. But on October 8, 1 million acres burned in the deadliest fire in American history. Later that century, meteorologists mistakenly predicted clearing skies for New York City on March 10, 1888. Then, two devilish storm fronts collided in what was called the Great White Hurricane. The blizzard brought New Yorkers to their knees and unprepared city leaders were powerless to help.Powerless too were the residents of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, on May 31, 1889. A private club of wealthy businessmen owned a dam upriver from Johnstown. The club modified the dam to improve recreation on their private lake, but these changes weakened the structure. When heavy rains fell, the dam burst, flooding Johnstown with 20 million tons of water.Residents of San Francisco had no warning when a massive earthquake struck on April 18, 1906. It toppled buildings, ruptured gas mines and ignited fires. Years of political corruption had underfunded the fire department, leaving it without the equipment or training to quench the inferno, and San Francisco burned. In the 1920s, farmers transformed the dry, windy southern Plains by digging up the buffalo grass and planting millions of acres of wheat. But nature fought back by turning this breadbasket into a Dust Bowl. On April 14, 1935, Black Sunday, a 200-mile cloud of dirt buried fields, livestock, and people.Peoples' choices did not cause these disasters, but they did give the forces of nature an extra nudge. However, tragedy sparked reforms in weather forecasting, soil and forest management, and emergency preparation. But remember-no one can control nature. So be prepared to get out of the way when disaster strikes.This is the tenth book in a series called Mystery & Mayhem, which features true tales that whet kids' appetites for history by engaging them in genres with proven track records-mystery and adventure. History is made of near misses, unexplained disappearances, unsolved mysteries, and bizarre events that are almost too weird to be true-almost! The Mystery and Mayhem series delves into these tidbits of history to provide kids with a jumping off point into a lifelong habit of appreciating history.The five true tales told within Earth, Wind, Fire, and Rain are paired with maps, photographs, and timelines that lend authenticity and narrative texture to the stories. A glossary and resources page provide the opportunity to practice using essential academic tools. These nonfiction narratives use clear, concise language with compelling plots that both avid and reluctant readers will be drawn to.Nomad Press books in the Mystery & Mayhem series introduce readers to historical concepts and events by engaging them in an extremely popular genre-real-life adventure and mystery. Readers ages 9 to 12 are fascinated with the strange-but-true tales that populate history, and books in this series offer compelling narrative nonfiction paired with concise language that appeals to both voracious and reluctant readers. Nomad's unique approach to the study of history uses tantalizing tales based in factual knowledge that encourage a lifelong curiosity in the historical events that shape our world.Titles in the series include: Pirates and Shipwrecks; Survival; Weird Disappearances; Daring Heists; Rebels & Revolutions; Great Escapes; Tomb Raiders; Eruptions and Explosions; Epidemics and Pandemics; and Earth, Wind, Fire, and Rain.

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Publié par	Nomad Press
Date de parution	01 février 2018
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781619306271
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	3 Mo

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Nomad Press
A division of Nomad Communications
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Copyright 2018 by Nomad Press. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review or for limited educational use. The trademark Nomad Press and the Nomad Press logo are trademarks of Nomad Communications, Inc.
ISBN Softcover: 978-1-61930-628-8 ISBN Hardcover: 978-1-61930-626-4
Educational Consultant, Marla Conn
Questions regarding the ordering of this book should be addressed to
Nomad Press
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www.nomadpress.net
Contents
Introduction When Disaster Strikes
Chapter One Eden Burning A raging fire in the small town of Peshtigo, Wisconsin, burns more than a million acres of woods in 1871.
Chapter Two Great White Hurricane Meteorologists predicted clearing skies for New York City on March 10,1888. They were very, very wrong.
Chapter Three Wall of Water When an upriver dam bursts after heavy rainfall in 1889, the town below endures devastating losses.
Chapter Four Quake and Flame In 1906, San Francisco suffers from a massive earthquake, and the resulting fires and unstable buildings claim even more victims.
Chapter Five Black Sunday The Dust Bowl storm of 1935 comes after a terrible drought, when years of ill-advised agricultural practices mean terrible storms of dust.
Glossary Resources
Titles in the Mystery Mayhem Series

Check out more titles at www.nomadpress.net
Introduction
When Disaster Strikes
Earth, wind, fire, and water-the ancient Greeks believed these four elements were the foundation of life. Earth provides nourishment, wind is the air we breathe, fire warms and lights, and water cleanses and quenches.
But nature is fickle. While these elements give life, they also take it away.
The power of a natural disaster is chilling. The blue sky, calm water, and solid ground we take for granted can turn on us with sudden fury. When nature gets ugly, it is a stark reminder that no matter how advanced civilization becomes, we will always be at the mercy of the elements.
Five of America s deadliest natural disasters were made worse by human error, ignorance, and greed.
In 1871, the vast forest of northern Wisconsin was a tinderbox. While loggers, railroad workers, and farmers in the town of Peshtigo prayed for rain, they kept chopping down trees and burning brush. On October 8, small blazes joined hands in a funnel of flame that burned 1 million acres of forest in the deadliest fire in American history.
The people in Peshtigo knew fire posed a threat during that dry summer, but the residents of New York City were blindsided by the Great White Hurricane that hit on March 11, 1888. Meteorologists had predicted clearing skies, but then two storm fronts collided, bringing New York City to its knees.
Communication with the outside world was cut off and all transportation ground to a halt. People froze to death in snowdrifts more than 10 feet high. Others drowned in the icy harbor.
Powerless, too, were the residents of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, on May 31, 1889. A private club of wealthy businessmen owned a dam upriver from Johnstown. The club modified the dam to improve recreation on its private lake, but these changes weakened the structure. When heavy rains fell, the dam burst, sending 20 million tons of water downriver.
Although the dam was clearly the creation of man, the courts deemed the flood an act of God. No one was held responsible for the destruction.
Of course, no one is at fault when an earthquake strikes. On April 18, 1906, the ground under San Francisco, California, began to shake and crack. A massive earthquake toppled buildings and broke water and gas mains. Fires erupted across the city that could not be blamed on nature alone. Years of corruption and mismanagement by officials left the fire department unprepared to battle the blazes. For three days, San Francisco burned.
Drought and strong winds were common to the Southern Plains, but in the 1920s, farmers replaced the natural grasses that held the soil in place with millions of acres of wheat. Nature got even by transforming this breadbasket into the Dust Bowl. On April 14, 1935, winds from Canada moved across the flat land at speeds of 65 miles an hour, picking up soil as it blew. A cloud of dirt stretched 200 miles wide, suffocating livestock, smothering crops, and burying houses and people in dirt. Black Sunday was just the beginning of an ecological nightmare.
These natural disasters cost millions of dollars and caused much death and misery. But they also sparked reforms that changed America. Fire prevention strategies, disaster response plans, and improvements in weather forecasting, architecture, and agriculture developed after the clouds passed and the fires were put out. These advances save lives.
But remember-no one controls nature. Be prepared to get out of the way when disaster strikes.
Chapter One
Eden Burning
Long ago in northeast Wisconsin, a forest grew. Hundreds and thousands of acres of hemlock, oak, maple, and pine trees stood shoulder to shoulder. Catholic priest Peter Pernin came to the area in 1870 and described it as a wild but majestic forest. Trees, trees, everywhere, nothing else but trees as far as you can travel. The king of the forest was the white pine.
Six feet wide and 170 feet tall, just one tree could be used to complete an entire house. To lumbermen, these pines were gold. The wild and rapid Peshtigo River cut a crooked path through the forest, and by the mid 1800s, sawmills had sprung up along its banks.
At the sawmills, logs were cut into boards to be sent downriver to the Green Bay of Lake Michigan. From there, the timber was shipped to Chicago, 250 miles south.
Farmers followed the loggers north, and the little town of Peshtigo was born. A journalist from Detroit, Michigan, was taken by its beauty. Wisconsin is the Eden of our country, he wrote.
But this paradise would be short-lived. On October 8, 1871, drought, human carelessness, and combustible weather ignited the deadliest fire in American history. Eden burned.

When Father Pernin arrived in 1870, the town of Peshtigo was booming. Chicago businessman William Ogden founded the Peshtigo Company in 1856. The company included a sawmill, woodenware factory, dry-goods store, and boardinghouse. A harbor into Green Bay lay only 6 miles southeast of town, so lumber could be shipped south across Lake Michigan.
However, travel on the Great Lakes could be treacherous. In 1864, Ogden decided to create an alternative, and partnered with lumberman Isaac Stephenson to extend the Chicago Northwestern railroad from the city of Green Bay to the Menominee River, 10 miles north of Peshtigo. Hundreds of laborers moved north to lay the tracks.
Peshtigo was home to roughly 2,000 people. The river cut the town in half, with the two sides connected by a wooden bridge. Immigrant farmers from Sweden, Germany, and Norway bumped elbows with loggers and railroad workers on sawdust streets and plank sidewalks.
Women shopped at F.J. Bartels dry goods or J.J. Sherman s drugstore. A curtain factory and gristmill provided locals with more jobs, while two hotels sheltered visitors.
On Saturday nights, the logging and railroad crews relaxed at Peshtigo s dozens of saloons. Sunday mornings, citizens could seek forgiveness at Father Pernin s almost-completed Catholic church, St. Mary s. By October 1871, the building was almost finished. The final task of plastering the walls was scheduled for October 9.
Father Pernin would never get to preach in the new building.

Not everyone lived in the town of Peshtigo. West of town, the Sugar Bush was a collection of farm settlements sheltered by a heavy stand of sugar maples. North of Peshtigo were the towns of Marinette and Menominee.
Fire enabled people to make a living from the land. Fire was used to clear fields, dispose of brush and debris, cook food, heat houses, power train engines, and fuel sawmill boilers. Occasionally, a fire would get out of hand and burn a few acres. But in normal times, fires died out quickly in the moist, windless, dark forest.
The fall of 1871 was not a normal time.
Every winter, northern Wisconsin was blanketed in several feet of snow. During the winter of 1871, no snow fell. Springs rains were light and ended early. After July 16, it was as if a spigot in the sky had been cranked closed. Except for a light sprinkle on September 16, no rain fell.
The land became parched. Miles of swamp and cranberry bog dried up. The Peshtigo River sank so low, logs could not be floated downriver. Instead, they were piled along the bank. Leaves and pine needles died and fell, blanketing the forest floor.
Despite the dryness, life continued on for the locals. Farmers burned off stumps to clear the fields. Hunters scoured the woods for game and their spent ammunition fell, still smoldering, to the forest floor. Sparks from locomotive brake lines and smokestacks fell in the dry brush along the train tracks. Flammable industrial chemicals were used at the mills.
In this tinderbox, small fires did not die. They went dormant. Sparks nibbled at tree roots or hid in stumps. Coals smoldered inside peat bogs. People traveling at night reported tiny red eyes glaring out from the woods. It was fire.
Peshtigo had no fire department. Instead, one single-pump fire engine was parked at William Ogden s sawmill. Barrels of water were stationed around town, and everyone kept a bucket handy. When the lumber company s whistle blew or the church bells rang, people grabbed their buckets and headed toward the smoke.
This system of firefighting worked for small fires, but would prove useless on October 8, 1871. Conditions were ripe for a fire of epic proportions.
A low-pressure weather system moved in from the Plains at the end of September. W