The morning of April 16, 1947 can still be remembered by many of the citizens of Texas City. This was a morning that many must have thought was the end of the world, and for some people it did become the end of their world. The day started as a bright, clear spring morning. A ship in the Texas City harbor bearing a cargo of ammonium nitrate fertilizer destined for war torn Europe, caught fire. The fire department was on the scene trying to put out the fire, and a crowd of people (many children) had gathered to watch the firefighters. The bright orange color that came out of the black smoke seemed to catch everyone's attention. The crowd must not have known that ammonium nitrate is highly explosive or they didn't know what was in the cargo hold of the ship. The standard plan for towing a dangerously burning ship from the harbor was not implemented until it was too late, and the tug boat didn't arrive in time to prevent what happened next. A little after 9:00 a.m. the Texas City Disaster, as it is often referred to, happened as the Grand Camp exploded. A great column of smoke shot up an estimated two thousand feet, followed in about ten seconds by another, and even more violent shockwave. Within moments of the second blast, the Monsanto Chemical Plant was in flames that resulted from broken lines and shattered containers. As entire buildings collapsed, trapping people inside, fires quickly spread to the refineries that made up the Texas City indusial complex. Another catastrophic event happened when a miniature tidal wave resulted when the water from the bay, which had been driven out by the explosion, rushed in over the docks and continued as far inland as one hundred and fifty feet, sweeping everything in its path with it. All day long the work of caring for the injured and fighting the fires was underway. By nightfall, the town was filled with rescue workers, and ambulances had been making repeated trips to area hospitals. Darkness did not stop the efforts to find those who were still trapped in the wreckage. Throughout the night, fear mounted because another freighter, which was also loaded with ammonium nitrate as well as sulfur, had also been burning all day. Tugs had tried in vain to tow her out of the ruined harbor. At 1:00 a.m. on April 17, everyone was ordered away from the area. At 1:10 a.m. the High Flyer exploded in the most violent of all the blasts, taking with her another ship, the Wilson B. Keene. It also destroyed a concrete warehouse and a grain elevator and triggered even more fires. Almost the entire fire department had been lost in the first explosion, along with plant workers, dockworkers, school children, and other bystanders. Windows rattled in Baytown and a fine mist of black oil rained in Galveston. The losses from the disaster were unprecedented. Nearly 600 deaths over 2,000 injuries, and property loss of over $67 million in a town of about 16,000 is a terrible toll.. It is impossible to arrive at an exact figure because many bodies were never recovered. No one in the city was unaffected by the explosions and fires. Not a single family could be found that didn't suffer a death, an injury, or severe damage to a house or business. A full week passed before the last of the fires was extinguished, and a month had gone by before the last body was pulled from the tons of rubble. The very process of identifying the dead was complicated because often a person disappeared without a trace. Moreover, some people with no permanent ties to Texas City simply picked up their families and left town. Occasionally relatives came in, located a body and unceremoniously took it away for burial elsewhere. These circumstances, plus the condition of some of the bodies, made the task enormous. At last, it was done, leaving the Memorial Cemetery on Loop 197 North as a mute testimony to the 63 unidentified dead who are buried in numbered graves on land designated by the city for that purpose. On June 22, 1947, in donated cypress caskets and with simple services conducted by religious leaders of all faiths, the bodies were laid to rest. Members of veterans' organizations, labor unions, and volunteer firemen served as pallbearers. Dreadful as the disaster was, it brought the people of Texas City together as nothing else had ever done. Those that remained were determined to rebuild again, and all of the industries that were damaged, stayed and rebuilt. It must be remembered that the disaster was not caused by an indusial accident, but one caused by a ship in port that exploded. The industries were as much a victim as any individual. The Texas City Terminal Railway (TCT), for example, saw all of its port, most of it railroad and much of its warehousing destroyed. Forty-six of its employees were killed, including President H.J. Mikeska, and 125 employees were injured. The Texas City Disaster
April 16 and 17, 1947The morning of April 16, 1947 can still be remembered by many of the citizens of Texas City. This was a morning that many must have thought was the end of the world, and for some people it did become the end of their world. The day started as a bright, clear spring morning. A ship in the Texas City harbor bearing a cargo of ammonium nitrate fertilizer destined for war torn Europe, caught fire. The fire department was on the scene trying to put out the fire, and a crowd of people (many children) had gathered to watch the firefighters. The bright orange color that came out of the black smoke seemed to catch everyone's attention. The crowd must not have known that ammonium nitrate is highly explosive or they didn't know what was in the cargo hold of the ship. The standard plan for towing a dangerously burning ship from the harbor was not implemented until it was too late, and the tug boat didn't arrive in time to prevent what happened next. A little after 9:00 a.m. the Texas City Disaster, as it is often referred to, happened as the Grand Camp exploded. A great column of smoke shot up an estimated two thousand feet, followed in about ten seconds by another, and even more violent shockwave. Within moments of the second blast, the Monsanto Chemical Plant was in flames that resulted from broken lines and shattered containers. As entire buildings collapsed, trapping people inside, fires quickly spread to the refineries that made up the Texas City indusial complex.
Another catastrophic event happened when a miniature tidal wave resulted when the water from the bay, which had been driven out by the explosion, rushed in over the docks and continued as far inland as one hundred and fifty feet, sweeping everything in its path with it. All day long the work of caring for the injured and fighting the fires was underway. By nightfall, the town was filled with rescue workers, and ambulances had been making repeated trips to area hospitals. Darkness did not stop the efforts to find those who were still trapped in the wreckage. Throughout the night, fear mounted because another freighter, which was also loaded with ammonium nitrate as well as sulfur, had also been burning all day. Tugs had tried in vain to tow her out of the ruined harbor. At 1:00 a.m. on April 17, everyone was ordered away from the area. At 1:10 a.m. the High Flyer exploded in the most violent of all the blasts, taking with her another ship, the Wilson B. Keene. It also destroyed a concrete warehouse and a grain elevator and triggered even more fires. Almost the entire fire department had been lost in the first explosion, along with plant workers, dockworkers, school children, and other bystanders. Windows rattled in Baytown and a fine mist of black oil rained in Galveston.
The losses from the disaster were unprecedented. Nearly 600 deaths over 2,000 injuries, and property loss of over $67 million in a town of about 16,000 is a terrible toll.. It is impossible to arrive at an exact figure because many bodies were never recovered. No one in the city was unaffected by the explosions and fires. Not a single family could be found that didn't suffer a death, an injury, or severe damage to a house or business. A full week passed before the last of the fires was extinguished, and a month had gone by before the last body was pulled from the tons of rubble. The very process of identifying the dead was complicated because often a person disappeared without a trace. Moreover, some people with no permanent ties to Texas City simply picked up their families and left town. Occasionally relatives came in, located a body and unceremoniously took it away for burial elsewhere. These circumstances, plus the condition of some of the bodies, made the task enormous.
At last, it was done, leaving the Memorial Cemetery on Loop 197 North as a mute testimony to the 63 unidentified dead who are buried in numbered graves on land designated by the city for that purpose. On June 22, 1947, in donated cypress caskets and with simple services conducted by religious leaders of all faiths, the bodies were laid to rest. Members of veterans' organizations, labor unions, and volunteer firemen served as pallbearers. Dreadful as the disaster was, it brought the people of Texas City together as nothing else had ever done. Those that remained were determined to rebuild again, and all of the industries that were damaged, stayed and rebuilt. It must be remembered that the disaster was not caused by an indusial accident, but one caused by a ship in port that exploded. The industries were as much a victim as any individual.
The Texas City Terminal Railway (TCT), for example, saw all of its port, most of it railroad and much of its warehousing destroyed. Forty-six of its employees were killed, including President H.J. Mikeska, and 125 employees were injured.