The Cuyahoga River in Cleveland burns in 1969.
Note—The river on fire in Cleveland was a wake-up call from
the depths of a long era of unfettered industrial pollution of America’s waters
and air. It even got Richard Nixon’s
attention and was one of the events that led to the creation of the
Environmental Protection Agency and Clean Water regulations. Those are the regulations that the Trump
administration tried to either systematically dismantle or decline to
enforce. For the first time in decades
air and water pollution got worse.
Fifty five years ago on June 22,
1969 sparks from a passing freight train ignited a thick scum of oil and gunk that built
up around the pilings of a railroad trestle across the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland, Ohio.
The results were impressive. Within minutes the fire spread from bank to
bank and downriver. Roaring
red flames licked up into the air
five stories high and thick black smoke enveloped
the city and rose high into the air. The
fire burned intensely for about half an hour and died down only when the oil slick was consumed.
The fire made national headlines, was covered by all of the TV evening news broadcasts and became a cover story exposé on industrial
pollution in Time Magazine. But the astonishing
thing was that it was not the first, most damaging, or deadliest fire on the Cuyahoga.
The river, with its banks lined by heavy
industrial plants, for 100 years, all discharging their waste unimpeded and untreated into it, first burned in
1868. Including the June fire, it was
ablaze at least 12 more time, more than once a decade. A fire in 1912 killed
at least 5 people. One in 1952 caused
over $1.3 million in pre-inflation
damage. The latest fire singed a
couple of railroad bridges, but most of the damage was to Cleveland’s reputation.
A young Randy Newman in 1972 when Burn On was included on his hit LP Sail Away.
The Burning River quickly became part of modern urban folk lore. The local underground newspaper was the Burning River Times. Several songs were written, the most
well-known by Randy Newman:
Burn On
There’s
a red moon rising
On
the Cuyahoga River
Rolling
into Cleveland to the lake
There’s
a red moon rising
On
the Cuyahoga River
Rolling
into Cleveland to the lake
There’s
an oil barge winding
Down
the Cuyahoga River
Rolling
into Cleveland to the lake
There’s
an oil barge winding
Down
the Cuyahoga River
Rolling
into Cleveland to the lake
Cleveland,
city of light, city of magic
Cleveland,
city of light, you’re calling me
Cleveland,
even now I can remember
‘Cause
the Cuyahoga River goes smokin’ through my dreams
Burn
on, big river, burn on
Burn
on, big river, burn on
Now
the Lord can make you tumble
Lord
can make you turn
The
Lord can make you overflow
But
the Lord can’t make you burn
Burn
on, big river, burn on
Burn
on, big river, burn on
—Randy Newman
Industry along the river.
Cleveland’s location as deep
water port on Lake Erie, river connections to the rich
Ohio agricultural heartland, and as
a major rail hub all facilitated the
city’s rapid growth. With easy access to
taconite iron ore and lumber from the Minnesota Iron Range and North
Woods by ship and coal and oil from Pennsylvania, heavy industry took root early and flourished. It was an early home to many pioneering automobile manufacturers and remained
an important parts supplier to the
industry. Locomotives, heavy industrial equipment, stoves, and other appliances were just some of the items produced. John D.
Rockefeller incorporated Standard
Oil there and built the largest oil
refinery in the East there.
The population swelled, first
with farm boys, and then with European immigrants. During and after World Wars I and II
Appalachian Whites and Southern
Blacks added to the mix, all fodder for the insatiable
factories. By 1950 Cleveland was the
fifth largest city in the U.S.
The Cuyahoga snakes its way across the Mud Flats in this 1937 aerial
photograph. Note the gleaming downtown towers rising just above the
center loop.
Most of that industry was built on
the broad delta of the Cuyahoga as
it snaked its way to Lake Erie that the locals called the Mud Flats. The
factories and mills sucked up huge amounts of river water for their operations
then discharged it back into the river contaminated
by oil, grease,
chemicals of every sort, and heavy
metal residue. The
river was an open sewer emptying in
a once pristine Lake Erie.
By 1969 the city, which rode to
prosperity and prominence on its industry, was just beginning to feel the
beginning of the long decline which would accelerate in the ‘70s—the era of the Arab oil boycott, stagflation, and the beginning to the exodus of industrial production in the
U.S. for foreign shores. It became the first American city to enter into a financial default on federal
loans since the Great Depression.
By the late ‘80s Cleveland was a poster child for the Rust Belt, complete with abandoned
factories—many still heavily contaminated themselves—a shrinking population, and grim prospects. Looking
back, many local folk would identify the river fire as the beginning of the
process.
The oil scum on the river as it piles up near a bridge. A reporter dared dip his hand into it.
The fire fueled rising concerns
about the environment nationally. Public
agitation led to Congressional
hearings and the enactment of the National
Environment Protection Act (NEPA)
which was signed into law on January 1, 1970 by Richard Nixon. At the first Earth Day demonstrations that spring,
posters of the Burning River were a common
symbol of the degradation of the environment. Under the provision of the act Nixon would go
on to create the Environmental
Protection Agency (EPA) which would make regulation of water pollution a high priority.
The Clean Water Act mandated
that all rivers U. S. be hygienic enough
to safely allow swimming and edible fishing
by 1983. Since the 1969 the Northeast Ohio Regional Sewer District
has invested over $3.5 billion in the purification of the river and the
development of new sewer systems. The
City of Cleveland further endowed over $5 billion to the upkeep of the
waste water system.
Although the rapid demise of
industry reduced the continued introduction of pollutants, the clean-up and recovery of the
Cuyahoga has been a great success story.
There was never again another major river fire, and the river is now
home to about sixty different species of fish. Almost all of the old factories are out of
business and many of the buildings have been torn down. The contaminated Mud Flats on which they
stood have been partially restored thanks to Federal Brown Fields funding.
Today, Cleveland has a population of only 313,000 compared to
a high of 914,000 in 1950. It has rebranded itself as a regional center
for commerce, technology, communications, and the arts. Led by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Lake
front redevelopment, it has even become a tourist attraction.
And those tourists can ride excursion boats on the Cuyahoga along tree lined shores.
Today a gleaming Cleveland fire boat can make arches of water over the
nearly pristine Cuyahoga River for the entertainment of tourists and
local celebrating the Burning River Festival. How much longer until the
boat has to return to quenching blazes on the river?
Despite these successes, the State of Ohio was firmly in the hands
of a right wing Republican government
even before the rise of Trump who’s expressed allegedly libertarian ideology called for the dismantlement of all of the regulations that made the recovery
possible and the slashing of infrastructure
investment to maintain Cleveland’s now aging sewer and water treatment facilities. Like
their ideological allies across the country, they advocated re-industrialization based on unrestricted exploitation of the
environment and a domestic wage base
driven down to Third World levels.
If they get their way, we may not
have seen the last of the Burning River.
