88 years ago to this day, 25 people met their end via a crashing wave of sugar that swiftly enveloped them, trapping them like flies in....well, molasses.
In Boston's North End in 1919, The North American Alcohol company pumped its tanks full of molasses in preparation for the glut of booze production that needed to take place before the Prohibition Act came into effect. At this same time, a rapid and unusual pattern of weather ran across the Northeast. In 24 hours, the temperature swung from 2 to 40 degrees Fahrenheit. The sudden warmth caused the walls of one molasses tank to give out and surrender its contents to the busy streets below. The familiar simile, slow as molasses, must have been bitterly recanted by all those who were taken asunder by the 30 mph onslaught of sucrose.
The rescue teams had a very difficult time accessing the victims who were literally stuck. They had no choice but to shoot all the horses that were mired in the sludge. The clean-up process took years, and for more than a quarter-century afterwards, molasses would seep from the ground in hot weather. People living in the area still claim to detect its sweet smell on occasion.
Now, tell me you couldn't go for a Starbucks' Molasses Chew Cookie after reading all that, you sick fuck.
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