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The Blizzard of 1977 is still remembered in Western New York, especially in Buffalo, which received the brunt of the storm. The blizzard occurred during the most extreme cold the area had ever seen, accompanied by some of the largest winter snowfalls on record. The blizzard struck with little warning on Friday morning, January 28, 1977, and the blowing snow and extreme cold paralyzed the Buffalo area until the first week of February. The storm made travel impossible and stranded thousands of people across the region, while snowdrifts buried houses up to the second story. This is a story not only of survival, but also of community. Neighbors helped neighbors, radio stations relayed messages and provided crucial information, and countless individuals donated their time and equipment to bring needed medicine or food to shut-ins across the region.

The blizzard occurred during the most extreme cold the area had ever seen, accompanied by some of the largest winter snowfalls on record. The blizzard struck with little warning on Friday morning, January 28, 1977, and the blowing snow and extreme cold paralyzed the Buffalo area until the first week of February. The storm made travel impossible and stranded thousands of people across the region, while snowdrifts buried houses up to the second story. This is a story not only of survival, but also of community. Neighbors helped neighbors, radio stations relayed messages and provided crucial information, and countless individuals donated their time and equipment to bring needed medicine or food to shut-ins across the region

Journey to the coast with Michael Morgan as he looks back at the area's most deadly storms.

Coastal Delaware, Maryland and Virginia have always been vulnerable to the power of storms. In the early nineteenth century, storm-driven shipwrecks led to the construction of the Delaware breakwater. In 1933, a storm created an inlet on the south edge of Ocean City and changed the character of the Maryland resort. The Ash Wednesday nor'easter of 1962 devastated oceanfront communities, led to the creation of beach replenishment projects that pushed the ocean back from the new multimillion-dollar buildings that sat on the sand and spurred the creation of Assateague Island National Seashore. Michael Morgan narrates the stories of these storms and reminds us of the power of wind and water.

Door County is the home to numerous shipwrecks of pleasure craft and steamers, on a photographic journey of the treacherous waters and those they have claimed.

Door County is the final resting place of many shipwrecks, from the first Euro American ship to sail the western Great Lakes, LaSalle's fabled Griffin that left Washington Island in 1679 never to be heard of again, to modern-day pleasure crafts that find the shallow inlets and bays hard to navigate. Door Peninsula Shipwrecks takes the reader on a photographic journey around the peninsula and back to a time of wooden ships and iron men. From Sturgeon Bay to the east coast of the peninsula to the northern islands and Green Bay, the journey encompasses early wooden sail craft to steel steamers, the brave sailors who sailed the treacherous waters, and the heroic lifesavers who rescued them.

Join author David Healey as he keeps an eye to the red horizon and chronicles the most remarkable storms to churn the waters of the Chesapeake Bay.

Even before John Smith's crew weathered its first squall, the Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries had been ravaged by every type of storm imaginable. A 1769 hurricane altered the course of history, demolishing the shipping channels of Charlestown and making Baltimore the dominant port. A once-in-five-hundred-years storm, Tropical Storm Agnes, left more than seventy people dead and devastated the ecology of the bay. Before the blizzards of 2009 and 2010, the snowfall record was held by the combination of the Great Eastern Blizzard of 1899, which blew the water out of the bay, and the Great White Hurricane, which stranded the oyster fleet of Baltimore in feet of ice.

The fading memories of Greater Boston's Blizzard of 1978 return to life for those who experienced it and those who can only imagine.

The great blizzard of 1978 is an event seared in the memory of anyone who lived through it. Most of Greater Boston was quickly overwhelmed by the storm, which shut down all forms of transit, stranded thousands of cars and motorists along Route 128, and virtually shut down most of the state for a week. But for many coastal communities, the impact of the storm, which brought record high tides and pounding surf, was pure devastation. The common thread shared by almost everyone in the region was positive memories of neighbors and strangers helping each other and finding new bonds of community.

Greater Boston's Blizzard of 1978is illustrated with approximately 200 photographs from government archives and private collections and is told by author Alan R. Earls, who somehow managed to drive through the worst of the infamous storm.

Fires were a scourge in nineteenth-century New York, destroying personal property, prominent buildings and, in many cases, a sense of community. In Madison County, fires changed the community, included the mysterious burning of the Madison County Courthouse, the complete loss of business districts in both Canastota and Hamilton and the arsonist who terrorized Cazenovia for nearly five years. Fires destroyed the historic Gerrit Smith Mansion in Peterboro, the Munnsville Plow Company and Duffy-Mott in Bouckville, drastically affecting the future of the county. Madison County historian Matthew Urtz examines the fires, their causes and the economic and psychological impact they had on this peaceful community.

Circle City Catastrophes/

Disaster was a fact of everyday life in 1800s and early 1900s Indianapolis. During the 1860s, more than 1,700 people died in what is now the Herron-Morton Place neighborhood. In 1882, ten people drowned under the Union Railroad Depot. Ropes were considered an adequate fire escape in the 1890s, but when the National Surgical Institute caught fire, they proved unequal to the task. The owners of the Prest-O-Lite Company created the world-famous Indianapolis Motor Speedway, but their company also had four major incidents that caused eleven deaths and destruction in the city. In 1917, Hollywood was responsible for the deaths of six people in an Indianapolis apartment building. Join Jack Finney as he explores these and other Indianapolis fires and disasters./ 

Join Jack Finney as he explores these and other Indianapolis fires and disasters./ 

Centuries ago, Europeans desperate for gold and a route to the East found a lush, green paradise populated by native tribes in the New World.

Subsequent violence and disease all but wiped out the native population. The land nurtured Charlton Heston and Ernest Hemingway in their youths and spawned the assassin of President William McKinley. Northern Michigan also bore witness to the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, one of the worst shipwrecks in Great Lakes history, and to the bizarre kidnapping of Gayle Cook, an ill-fated attempt to save the Perry Hotel in Petoskey from bankruptcy. Author and storyteller Dave Rogers recounts these and other historical tales from Up North.

Crippling winter storms are locked in the memories of millions of New Jerseyans.

On December 26, 1947, an unpredicted storm buried Newark in twenty-six inches of snow. A record-setting nor’easter on January 22, 2016, unleashed sixty-mile-per-hour wind gusts, six-foot drifts and snowfall depths of thirty inches in Bernards Township and Long Valley. But no storm was more infamous than the so-called Great White Hurricane. Coming when the science of meteorology was in its infancy, the blizzard of 1888 left tens of millions at the mercy of a vicious three-day nightmare with tragic loss of life and property that no one saw coming.

Author Don Colgan tells the stories of winter’s fury and of those who lived through the most extraordinary winter storms in New Jersey history.

Human action made one of the worst natural disasters in Indiana history even worse. Indiana and the Great Flood of 1913 reveals how this happened and how to avoid a similar fate in the future.

Indiana suffered enormous losses in the Great Flood of 1913, yet this disaster is largely forgotten. The combined tornado and flood barreled through Terre Haute, killing more than twenty. One hundred fourteen miles away in Peru, the circus lost most of its animals in the storm. At the southwestern corner of the state, a "sea of water,'? as local papers put it, washed over Evansville turning streets into canals. In the capital, levee failures left hundreds homeless and vulnerable to disease and famine. Pulling from archival photographs, newspapers, and local accounts, Dr. Nancy M. Germano shares stories from across the state to reveal how Indiana's history of settlement and development contributed to one of the state's worst disasters.

Island in the Storm, by local historians Jamie and Dorothy Moore, documents in vivid detail the devastation, loss and eventual rebuilding of this beloved island community.

On the night of September 21, 1989, Hurricane Hugo slammed into the South Carolina coast at Sullivan's Island with winds exceeding 160 miles per hour. The colossal force of the hurricane was punctuated by storm surges ranging from five to ten feet above sea level. At approximately one minute after midnight, Hugo's eye passed over the island, and the charming community seaside community disappeared beneath the tumultuous sea for nearly an hour. After Hugo left Sullivan's Island in its furious wake, the first news broadcasts from the Charleston area reported that the island and neighboring Isle of Palms were completely destroyed. The Ben Sawyer Bridge—the only connection to the island at the time—was knocked off its pedestal and rendered useless, and so the hundreds of families who had evacuated the area could not return to their homes to see what, if anything, remained. The recovery process started slowly, and for many it would be a long, arduous journey. More than 15 years later, Sullivan’s Island’s homes and businesses have been restored, but the memory of Hugo’s fury will not soon be forgotten.

For more than five centuries, the waterways surrounding Long Island have profoundly shaped its history.

Familiar subjects of lighthouses, shipwrecks and whaling are found alongside oft-forgotten oddities such as Pan-American flying boats landing in Manhasset Bay in the early days of transatlantic flight. From the British blockade and skirmishes during the American Revolution to the sinking of merchant vessels by Germany in World War II, the sea brought wars to these shores. By the later part of the 20th century, Gold Coast millionaires commuted in high-speed yachts to Manhattan offices as the island’s wealth grew. Historian Bill Bleyer reveals Long Island’s nautical bonds from the Native Americans to current efforts to preserve the region’s maritime heritage.

Experience the historic superflood that decimated the Ohio and Mississippi Valleys and the resilience displayed by the people of Memphis.

The greatest flood in United States history struck the Ohio and Mississippi Valleys in January 1937. Perhaps no single flood in the United States had caused as much damage, displayed as much brutal natural force and displaced as many people. Not even the calamitous flood of 1927, which has eclipsed the '37 flood in terms of historical coverage was as massive. Author and Memphis local Patrick O'Daniel illustrates how this national natural disaster affected Memphis, in particular, and how the politicians of the day, from national figures like FDR to local political bosses like Ed Crump, handled unprecedented infrastructural challenges. Yet beyond politics and policy, O'Daniel tells the story of this historic disaster through the eyes of everyday Memphians, their struggles, care for thousands of desperate refugees and the measures they took to save their city from this devastating flood.

Sodaro's book reveals the deadly 1967 tornado that struck towns of Belvidere and Oak Lawn in northern Illinois and left a 16 mile long path of destruction.

The morning of April 21, 1967, was crisp and clear, marking the arrival of spring. As the day progressed, dark clouds covered the skies over Oak Lawn, and a deadly tornado touched down in the village just before 5:30 p.m. Cutting through the intersection of 95th Street and Southwest Highway and striking elsewhere, the storm left mountains of debris and over 30 people dead in its wake. Oak Lawn Community High School, St. Gerald Catholic Church, and the Fairway Super Mart were among the structures damaged or destroyed by the high winds. After the disaster, rescue workers and volunteers poured into Oak Lawn to search for survivors, while Christ Community Hospital and other institutions treated more than 400 injured people. The immense cleanup, which took weeks to complete, saw debris hauled out or disposed of in controlled fires. Despite the scope of the devastation, many of the affected structures were repaired or rebuilt within 12 months.

Built by the City of Los Angeles' Bureau of Water Works and Supply, the failure of the St. Francis Dam on its first filling was the greatest American civil engineering failure of the 20th century. Beginning at dawn on the morning after the disaster, stunned local residents picked up their cameras to record the path of destruction, and professional photographers moved in to take images of the washed-out bridges, destroyed homes and buildings, Red Cross workers giving aid, and the massive clean-up that followed. The event was one of the worst disasters in California's history, second only to the San Francisco Earthquake and Fire.

A brief, elegant memoir of the author's work as a Red Cross volunteer delivering emergency water to residents of Flint, Michigan. A heartfelt portrait of a city, and a man, grieving.―Kirkus Reviews

A collection of short essays and exquisitely chiseled vignettes, Standpipe: Delivering Water in Flint sets the struggles of a midwestern city in crisis against David Hardin's narrative of his personal journey as his mother succumbs to dementia and death. Written with a poet's eye for detail and quiet metaphor, Standpipe offers an intimate look at one man's engagement with both civic and familial trauma. It's also a vivid investigation into how we all heal as a community.

This gentle, observant book is for readers looking to understand the human experience of the Flint Water Crisis, and as well as the deplorable conditions in Flint and the injustices that have plagued it for generations.

Every mass grave in Texas offers morbid proof that at one time, in that place, something went very, very wrong.

Texans have resorted to mass graves out of necessity, desperation and appalling indifference. These sites mark natural disasters or hide unnatural crimes that tested the limits of human endurance and empathy. Because of this, memorializing those who lie in mass graves can be controversial. Not everyone wants to dig up the darkness of the past, much less admit that the dirt is still fresh. Nevertheless, to honor those whose bones lie mixed with others, their stories must be told. In so doing, Kathy Benjamin exhumes essential shards of Lone Star history, from the Alamo to the present day.

The town of Wellington was located by the Stevens Pass summit in the Cascade Mountains. During the last days of February in 1910, the snow was relentless in the Cascades, falling as much as one foot per hour and rising up to 20 feet deep in areas. Rotary plows could not keep the lines open as snow covered the railroad tracks almost immediately after being cleared. The Seattle Express, coming from Spokane, and a fast mail train were stranded just beyond the safety of the Cascade Tunnel, where they remained unmovable for almost a week under the snow packed mountains. On March 1, an avalanche swept away the tracks and passengers aboard the two trains as well as several of Wellington's buildings and homes. Almost 100 individuals were killed in just a few seconds, creating America's deadliest avalanche and train disaster in history. Today, the site is part of the Iron Goat Trail off Highway 2, east of Skykomish. The snowshed, the abandoned original Cascade Tunnel, and various scraps of the trains left in the ravine are the only evidence that remain of Wellington, its long-forgotten inhabitants, or the disaster.

At 11:37 p.m. on August   17, 1959, a magnitude 7.5 earthquake rocked Montana's Yellowstone country.

In an instant, an entire mountainside fractured and thundered down onto the sites of unsuspecting campers. The mammoth avalanche generated hurricane-force winds ahead of it that ripped clothing from backs and heaved tidal waves in both directions of the Madison River Canyon. More than two hundred vacationers trapped in the canyon feared the dam upstream would burst. As debris and flooding overwhelmed the river, injured victims frantically searched the darkness for friends and family.

Acclaimed historian Larry Morris tells the gripping minute-by-minute saga of the survivors who endured the interminable night, the first responders who risked their lives and the families who waited days and weeks for word of their missing loved ones.

Author Janis Thornton reveals the stories of a day in Indiana like no other.

Palm Sunday 1965 started as the nicest day of the year, the kind of weather that encouraged Hoosiers to get out in the sun, fire up the grill, hit the golf course, or roll down their car windows and take a leisurely drive. That evening, however, throughout northern and central Indiana, the sky turned an ominous black, and storms moved in, quickly manifesting as Indiana's worst tornado outbreak. Within three hours, twisters, some a half-mile wide, ripped through seventeen counties, devastating communities and leaving death and destruction in their wake. When the tornadoes were finished with Indiana, 137 people were dead, hundreds were injured, and thousands more were forever changed.

Claiming the lives of seven adults and seventeen children, the Belvidere tornado struck the most vulnerable at the worst possible time: just as school let out. More than five hundred people suffered injuries.

New interviews and fascinating archival history underscore the horrific drama, as well as the split-second decisions of victims and survivors that saved their families and neighbors. Since the tragedy, three more devastating tornadoes have further defined Boone County's resilience: Poplar Grove in 2008, Caledonia in 2010 and Fairdale in 2015.

In June 1972, Hurricane Agnes hit the East Coast with a monstrous and devastating force, bringing a deluge across multiple states and slamming four counties in the Southern Tier: Steuben, Chemung, Tioga, and Broome.

Dozens died and property damage ran into the millions as Corning, Elmira, Owego, Binghamton, and other communities suddenly found themselves under water. The flood destroyed the Erie Lackawanna Railroad, staggered the Penn Central, shut down Corning Glass Works for weeks, and devastated the Corning Museum of Glass--a major cultural resource. Lives and landscapes were forever changed when homes and businesses washed away in a matter of minutes. Henceforth, the region's history became permanently divided into the times before and the times after the 1972 flood. Through stunning images, The 1972 Flood in New York's Southern Tier chronicles the extraordinary destruction of twisted rail lines, devastated streets, exhausted recovery workers, rivers bursting their banks, cars on houses, and houses on cars

In 1980, a record-breaking thunderstorm unleashed a disastrous amount of water on the tiny town of Brady’s Bend.

In a mere forty minutes, the community was annihilated by a catastrophic flash flood. Residents ran for their lives, and nine people drowned. Although rescue and recovery soon followed, the harrowing experience left a mark on the survivors that remains decades later.

Author and Brady’s Bend native Lisa Olszak Zumstein tells this community’s story in full and reveals how this devastating storm mirrors numerous others in the Appalachian corridor.

Follow the tragic story of a fishing trip gone wrong and its impact on the community of Brockton, Massachusetts.

On May 13, 1928, ten prominent men of Brockton, Massachusetts, headed off on a fishing trip to Moosehead Lake in Maine. After traveling fourteen hours, the group met Maine guide Samuel Budden and boarded the Mac II for the final voyage to their destination. Approximately six miles from the Tomhegan sporting camp, the boat took on water in rough seas and sank, taking Budden and all but one of the adventurers to a watery grave. Jim Benson and Nicole Casper chronicle this horrific tragedy and its legacy in two New England communities.

Discover the true tale of one of the most heroic rescues in Coast Guard history.

On December 17, 2000 Coast Guard Air Station Elizabeth City, North Carolina performed one of the most heroic rescues in the history of the service. The cruise ship SeaBreeze I was listing, battered by hurricane force winds and 35 foot seas. The ship and the lives of its 34 crewmen were in imminent peril. A rescue helicopter arrived and, seeing that the vessel could capsize at any moment, hoisted 26 of the crew to safety, a record for a single helicopter rescue. A second helicopter, diverted on its way home from a celebration of the Wright Brothers’ first flight, arrived on scene in time to rescue the remaining crew.

Rear Admiral Carlton Moore tells the complete history of this daring rescue, including never-before-printed radio messages from the rescuers.

On March 14, 1940, a train heading west along Highway 83 from Donna to Alamo struck a truck driver turning north from the highway onto Tower Road. The horrific crash killed twenty-nine of about forty-five farmworkers who were on the truck. A one-day investigation faulted the truck driver and led to meager court settlements for the devastated families. In the wake of these events, several of the victims’ children and grandchildren became lawyers and some of the first Mexican American judges in South Texas. Juan Carmona and Taylor Seaver De La Fuente revisit the deadliest traffic accident in Texas history, while seeking to preserve the stories of Mexican and Mexican American farmworkers and their relatives whose backbreaking contributions continue to feed our country to this day.

Fortitude after the flames

In 1893, Fargo was simply trying to thrive amid an impending national depression. One Wednesday afternoon in June, a ferocious fire quickly devoured hundreds of businesses and more than thirty blocks in the heart of the fledgling city. Residents were stunned, but they weren’t defeated. Through perseverance, grit and some helpful insurance money, owners immediately began rebuilding. The arduous reconstruction ended up protecting the city against unemployment and poverty.

Author Danielle Teigen describes the efforts and individuals who helped rebuild a stronger, better city. More than a century later, that resilience and determination continues to be a hallmark of the Gateway to the West.

Floyd Collins is perhaps the most famous person you've never heard of, but this young man's tragic death made him celebrated as the Greatest Cave Explorer Ever Known.

Collins was a Kentucky cave explorer in the early part of the 20th century, characterized by his lack of fear when exploring the most difficult cave passages, and few people could match his persistence and endurance. In the winter of 1925, Collins became trapped for more than two weeks in a cave located within the boundaries of what is now Mammoth Cave National Park. The story of Floyd Collins becoming trapped and ultimately dying alone in a cave held a powerful grip on the hearts and minds of people the world over. The resulting media coverage put Mammoth Cave on the map and helped usher the actual designation of Mammoth Cave as a national park. His explorations laid the foundation for others to later discover the truth of Mammoth Cave, the longest cave in the world.

After an extremely hot and dry summer, Chicago got a spark that grew into something unimiginable and unforgettable on Oct. 8, 1871.

On Oct. 8, 1871, what became known as "the Great Chicago Fire" was a massive firestorm that moved faster than most men could run, fueled by southwest winds of at least 30 miles per hour. The heat was so intense it melted stone and brick buildings in minutes and turned sand on the lakeshore into glass. A total of 18,000 buildings were destroyed. About 100,000 were left homeless, and over 300 lost their lives. The very same day, and nearly the same hour, both the Lower Peninsula of Michigan and Peshtigo, Wisconsin, suffered similar firestorms. Peshtigo's was even worse, creating an event that came to be known as "the Peshtigo Paradigm." Many people believe the three fires forming a huge triangle of destruction were related as one with cosmic causes, and it remains a mystery to this day. Authors and native Chicagoans John Boda and Ray Johnson take you inside this historic happening.

Schuylkill County is no stranger to disaster.

Schuylkill County is no stranger to disaster. Protected by volunteers since 1811, residents have faced block-burning conflagrations like the Great Memorial Day Fire of 1945, which consumed sixty-seven buildings in the Mahanoy City Business District, and commercial airplane crashes like United Flight 624 near Ashland, with no survivors. The Red Church propane truck explosion near Orwigsburg caused twelve fatalities, and the Reading Railroad passenger train collision with a gasoline truck in Port Carbon sparked death and destruction, as well as a frantic search for burning money.

Telling these stories with the help of rare and many never-before-seen images, authors and veteran firefighters Michael R. Glore and Michael J. Kitsock revisit some of the region’s most harrowing catastrophes.

The Deadliest Twister in U.S. History

The weather forecast for much of the Midwest on March 18, 1925, predicted “Wind and rain.” This prediction was right, but lethally inadequate. Around 1 p.m., a tornado touched down near Ellington, Missouri, and charged relentlessly for three and a half hours across Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana. The destructive storm left schools and workplaces leveled, over 600 dead and 1,600 injured in its two-hundred-nineteen-mile wake—earning it the name, the Great American Tornado. A nation united, doctors and nurses rushed aboard express trains. The Red Cross orchestrated an enduring six-month relief campaign, and people contributed funds and condolences from around the world. Amidst the staggering ruin, volunteers, the Red Cross, and ordinary heroes like Isaac Levy spearheaded awe-inspiring recovery efforts that rivaled the powerful storm.

Through firsthand accounts, interviews with survivors and a gripping collection of vintage photographs, author Michael Skidgell attempts to make sense of one of Hartford's worst tragedies.

Almost 7,000 fans eagerly packed into the Ringling Brothers big top on July 6, 1944. With a single careless act, an afternoon at the Greatest Show on Earth quickly became one of terror and tragedy as the paraffin-coated circus tent caught fire. Panicked crowds rushed for the few exits, but in minutes, the tent collapsed on those still struggling to escape below. A total of 168 lives were lost, many of them children, with many more injured and forever scarred by the events. Hartford and the surrounding communities reeled in the aftermath as investigators searched for the source of the fire and the responsible parties.

On Wednesday, November 5, 1930, Sunday Creek Coal Company Mine #6 at Millfield became the unenviable site of Ohio's worst coal mining disaster. Negligence caused an electrical spark to ignite accumulated methane and detonated untreated explosive dust. Within minutes 82 men were dead, 56 women became widows and 137 dependents found themselves fatherless. Approximately 120 men not in the direct line of blast and flame escaped. Miraculously, 19 others were found barely alive many hours after all were presumed dead. The tragedy could have been prevented if proper procedures had been followed and profit not put before worker safety. Author Ron Luce brings all of the facts together for the first time to tell the story of the Millfield Mine Disaster in full detail.

On March 25, 1911, flames rapidly consumed everything within the Triangle Waist Company factory, killing 146 workers. Until September 11, 2001, the Triangle fire was the deadliest workplace disaster in New York City history.

The victims, mostly young Jewish and Italian immigrant women, died needlessly due to unsafe working conditions, such as locked or blocked doors, narrow stairways, faulty fire escapes, and a lack of sprinklers. Mass grief and outrage spread from New York's Lower East Side across the country. Garment union membership swelled, and New York politics shifted dramatically toward reform, paving the way for the New Deal and, ultimately, the workplace standards expected today. Through historic images, The New York City Triangle Factory Fire honors the victims' sacrifice and serves as a reminder of the ongoing struggle for the dignity of all working people.

In the days after 9/11, the country was on high alert. So when an alarming incident occurred just off the Texas coast on the early morning hours of September 15th, authorities immediately assumed another terrorist attack had taken place. A towing vessel collided into a support pillar of the Queen Isabella Causeway, causing an 80-foot section of the bridge to tumble into the ocean. Unfortunately, the gaping hole left in the bridge was not visible to cars traveling to and from South Padre Island to the mainland city of Port Isabel, Texas. Robert Espericueta, along with his cousins, happened to be in the only other boat on the waters that night. Espericueta collaborates with author Juan Carmona to track the extraordinary events of a bewildering catastrophe and a heroic rescue.

Chronicling the devastating Strand Theatre Fire of 1941 and celebrating the community's heroes and resilience in the face of adversity.

On March 10, 1941, at 12:38 a.m., the Brockton Fire Department responded to Fire Alarm Box 1311, which was pulled for a fire at the Strand Theatre. Fire Alarm dispatched the deputy chief, three engine companies, a ladder company and Squad A. Within six minutes, a second alarm was struck. Less than one hour after the first alarm, the roof of the Strand collapsed, and what appeared to be a routine fire turned into a disaster that killed 13 firefighters and injured more than 20 others. The disaster marks one of the largest losses of life to firefighters from a burning building collapse in the United States.