Lou’s View – May 7, 2015
The Austin Survivor
by Lou Bernard
So I’ve been up to the Austin Dam Ruins a few times with my wife and kids, and it’s always an interesting time. The ruins are fascinating, and those Potter County people know what they’re doing with their history—They’ve got the whole thing made into a nice little park.
Oh, wait….You don’t know about the Austin Dam Ruins? Allow me to explain.
Just off Highway 872, near the little town of Austin, are the remains of what was once a huge dam. It’s an amazing thing to see—Giant concrete chunks as big as a house, sitting in this field where there was once a river.
This is what remains of the flood of 1911.
Back in the early 1900s, the Bayless Paper Company set up shop in the town of Austin. They had a large dam built in the river, to block the water. The dam was one of those obvious incidents of being clearly built by the lowest bidder—Immediately, everyone claimed to be sure it would never hold, but they lived with it anyway.
On September 30, 1911, they were proven right.
The dam burst, flooding the valley and pretty much demolishing the town of Austin. As a memorial to that day, the ruins are left in place, for people to come and see. I’ve been there a million times. It was big news at the time. Locally, it made some news in February of 1912, when a survivor of the disaster dropped by the Clinton County Times office on Bellefonte Avenue and offered himself up for an interview.
“Austin Survivor Here,” said the headline on February 9, 1912, just a few months after the flood. “W.M. McCloskey Lost All In Flood.”
McCloskey, who had been an employee of Bayless Paper for twenty-five years, was living with his son in McKean County, but visiting his brother-in-law, H.C. Stoner of Lock Haven. During his visit, he dropped by the Clinton County Times office. The Times was not above grabbing a good story in much the same way that my carpet is not above the attic.
“He was wonderfully lucky to escape with his life,” the article said. “The only warning he had of the awful disaster was when he saw some men running for the door. He immediately ran after them, his intuition telling him that some disaster was impending.” The lesson: When you see all your co-workers running to get out, probably it’s the smartest thing to join them.
The article continued,”When he reached the door of the mill, the huge pile of churning wood which formed the breast of the flood was about 100 feet away and coming on at terrific speed.”
The men ran from the building, running up the nearby hillside just in time, as if it were a movie or something.
“In a few seconds, the men had reached a point where they were safe from the mighty mass,” the Times said, telling McCloskey’s story the way he’d told it to them. “From the hill they witnessed the destruction of the town. When the mass struck the mill, the walls caved in and it was lucky that the employees had escaped or they would have been crushed to death. In a few moments, the main street was obliterated and the terrible disaster was accomplished.”
And then, there was the aftermath.
“McCloskey and his family were reunited and spent a couple of days on the hillside, sleeping at night in a barn,” the Times explained. “He says that the rubbish still remains at Austin and that no new buildings have been erected. All who were able to move away left the town and the only places of business open were those buildings which were not entirely demolished.”
McCloskey moved in with his son in Norwich, McKean County, and entered the printing business, which had more to do with the paper after it was made. He said that he was doing well at it.
The Clinton County Times, never one to waste a good article, ran it on the front page. Speaking from experience, it’s always nice when someone just wanders into your office and gives you a good interview.
