Ojai Valley Museum Historical essays St. Francis Dam disaster

“In common with the rest of the country, we of the Ojai Valley have been stunned by the horrors of Tuesday morning’s flood, which swept the Santa Clara Valley with such appalling destruction of life and property.

It was indeed a ‘bolt from the blue.’ There were probably not three people in the county who ever conceived of the possibility of such a catastrophe. Hundreds of people have made their homes along the banks of the river without the slightest idea they were at the mercy of a few engineers and contractors fifty miles away.”

The Ojai, Editorial
March 1928

The farmers working their land in the Santa Clara Valley had no idea of the tragedy that would come their way. For many years the San Franscisquito River had fed into the Santa Clara River, supplying Ventura County with water, as it flowed to the Pacific Ocean.

In 1925, the city of Los Angeles started a construction project of building “the great dam.” Ventura County had not been informed of this massive structure that would restrict the use of one of their most important natural resources, water. The concrete was already being poured, when Ventura County supervisors first became aware of the project. The dam was being constructed in Los Angeles County, but it would most certainly have its effect on the neighboring Ventura County.

Over the years, Ventura County had to be careful of its water supply; the surrounding counties were constantly wanting a share. Santa Barbara County had worked toward securing water from the upper section of the Ventura River, in the area above Ojai, now bordered by the Maricopa Highway. From Los Angeles County a request had been submitted to Ventura County by the town of Pasadena for a supply of water from the Sespe area.

The farmers that depended on these water sources felt that the county would suffer if they gave it away. So when they received the word that a dam was being built across one of the county’s main water supplies, there was great concern. At the time, Santa Clara Valley had 100,000 acres of cultivable land. The Fillmore area consisted of approximately 45,000 acres of farm land; and the Oxnard District, which consisted of 40,000 acres, would all be affected by the dam.

Since the water had always flowed freely into the broad, porous bed of the Santa Clara River, as it moved slowly downstream, the farmers believed that if the dam was allowed to be built, the surface and subterranean supply of water would be seriously depleted.

With all the concern being shown by the people of Ventura County in regards to the large dam, the city of Los Angeles started rushing to complete the obstruction of the San Francisquito River. The dam, a curved, concrete gravity dam, rose from the floor of the river to a height of almost 200 feet. The primary purpose was to provide storage for the Los Angeles-Owens River Aqueduct.

The St. Francis Dam, which today would have been about five miles northeast of Magic Mountain, was completed in May of 1926, and was already starting to fill with the sparkling water. The Owens aqueduct had been diverting its water into the reservoir since the first of March, and the lake was filling by 1.8 inches per day. By the early months of 1928, the dam was filling to capacity for the first time since its construction.

Many people checked on it regularly for any signs of trouble. William Mulholland, the dam’s chief engineer and architect, walked across the dam to view the lake that was formed by the impressive concrete structure on March 12, 1928. It was a beautiful sight. The mountains were a lush green from the many inches of rain that year, and the water was a crisp blue. The location was far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the city that a quiet peace could be felt. That same night, at 11:57 p.m., just as midnight approached, the dam broke.

Ten miles below the dam, a 78-foot high wall of water was rushing toward the town of Piru. By the time it hit the town, the wall of water was reduced to 40 feet, and 400 houses between the dam and the town of Piru were either lost or damaged. The Southern California Edison Company crew of 176 men were trapped by the flood waters. Only 80 of the men were later accounted for. Between the dam and Saugus, there were 191 people living in the path of the great destruction---of them, 25 were found alive. In Santa Paula, 10,000 acres of orchard and cultivated land was flooded, and the town was inundated. Approximately 400 houses were either wrecked or severely damaged.

The flood water traveled the 65 miles to the ocean, taking with it the wreckage of many homes, ranch buildings and all of the vegetation. Most of the victims of the disaster were in bed when the dam broke. The force of the flood waters tore away their night clothes as their bodies were washed out to sea.

Relief work began immediately. County organizations formed food depots at Santa Paula. The American Legion, including many members from Ojai, the Women’s Auxiliary of the American Legion, the Boy Scouts, the County Federation of Women’s Clubs, including the Ojai Valley Woman’s Club, rushed to the scene of the disaster, a group of tireless and willing workers.

The first of their many duties was to secure cots and bedding for the approaching night. Bread lines were established, and Bill Baker of the Ojai Bakery delivered 400 loaves of bread to the center set up in the grammar school in Santa Paula. Hundreds of refugees were without clothing, and the women’s clubs undertook the problem to supply this necessity.

Mrs. Sherman D. Thacher, secretary of the Ojai Chapter of the American Red Cross, found that the relief work going on in the Santa Paula, Newhall, Fillmore and Piru area was well-organized, especially in regards to the supply of food and clothing available for the people’s immediate need. Mrs. Thacher felt that the people of Ojai could do better by supplying money, that would be greatly needed for rehabilitation of the families later on. Many Ojai clubs, including the Boyd Club, assessed themselves and their membership for money to go toward the relief work.

The Santa Paula Packing House was being used as a dormitory, with the partitions built by stacking up orange crates, making quarters to house about 150 people. One of the most difficult jobs was the registering of the refugees and trying to reunite them with any family members that remained.

In the devastated area, and generally, the people took the disaster philosophically, considering how great was the tragedy through which they had passed. Anger was shown only in remarks heard when the builders of the dam were under discussion. When the immensity of the catastrophe following the breaking of the dam was realized, the question arose, “Who is to blame?”

The local newspaper, The Ojai, said: “However, it is too soon yet to apportion blame and too late to help those who have lost their lives. There is room for little else at this time than sympathy for the sufferers who have survived but have lost and suffered so terribly. Their needs are immediate and urgent. Fortunately, the response to the appeal for aid has been as it always is in such cases, spontaneous and generous.”

Tom Clark, the Ventura County supervisor from Ojai, toured the dam site right after the disaster and remarked that it was the most deplorable sight he had ever seen. The flood water had completely wiped out ranches and orchards. Where there had been alfalfa fields, pastures, orchards, groves of sycamore and oaks, there now remained nothing but the bare ground.

The first thought of many was the dam had been dynamited by disgruntled residents of the Owens Valley. The aqueduct that brought water from the northern part of the state had been having its share of problems with a rash of dynamiting incidents, and Los Angeles had received a bomb threat toward the dam just months prior to the dam’s failure.

The bomb theory was dismissed; seismographs, that would normally show such a blast, recorded nothing on the night of the failure. What geologists and construction engineers concluded was that the main problems seemed to be the design elements. William Mulholland accepted the blame, telling the coroner’s inquest: “Don’t blame anyone else, you just fasten it on me. If there was an error in human judgment, I was the human.”

As sightseers flocked to the area, the official traffic authorities closed most of the roads leading to the area. Traffic coming from Los Angeles was turned back at Camarillo. Cars traveling to Santa Paula from Ojai were turned back about halfway between the two towns. Bardsdale traffic was stopped at Moorpark. The Ridge Route Highway was completely washed out, stranding many motorists in both directions.

Along with the sightseers came the “scavenging” lawyers, who always follow in the wake of major disasters, seeking to sign up claimants on a 50-50 basis. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the Los Angeles Water Board was rushing to settle adjustments unfairly with property owners; while the city of Los Angeles had shown a commendable spirit, both in admitting its responsibility for the losses and trying to settle all claims without lawsuits and its determination to find the cause of the disaster. The city also pledged to pay for the burial of all the disaster victims.

The editor of the local paper wrote: “No matter how resentful we may feel against Los Angeles over the affair, nothing will be gained by a campaign of hate and enmity. There has been a strong undercurrent of bad feeling towards that city.” The dam’s failure resulted in the second worst tragedy in California history, exceeded only by the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

No better memorial could be raised to the 450 victims of the St. Francis disaster than the whole of the Southland should make that disaster the starting point for an era of life in which the selfishness and indifference to the welfare of others, individually and collectively, that had characterized the past, might be replaced with the spirit and practice of brotherhood an active goodwill.

By David Mason
“Ojaians rally to assist their neighbors to the east,”
Ojai Valley News, Nov. 12, 1999

The plaque at the base of the monument reads:

"Minutes before midnight on the chilly evening of March 12, 1928, the St. Francis Dam failed.

The Dam's 200-foot high concrete wall crumpled and collapsed, sending billions of gallons of raging flood waters down San Francisquito Canyon, about five miles northeast of what is now the city of Santa Clarita. The avalanche of water swept 54 miles down the Santa Clara River to the sea. No one knows the exact death toll, but more than 450 people perished in the disaster.

Shortly before 1:30 AM on March 13, an urgent message of imminent disaster reached the night telephone operator in Santa Paula and was quickly relayed to police officers, city officials, and then homes of the lower portion of town.

Among the many heroes of the flood that evening were two motorcycle officers who rode through the night to warn the sleeping citizens in the low lying areas of Santa Paula that a torrent of water was about to inundate their homes. Their heroic efforts saved countless lives. Their wild ride that night was stopped at 3:05 a.m. when the wall of water swept through Santa Paula on its way to the ocean."