When Food Was Fatal: The Great Molasses Flood of 1919
When Food Fought Back: The Sticky, Scary World of Early 1900s Food Disasters
You know what’s terrifying? Not sharks. Not haunted dolls. Not even expired yogurt.
It’s food. Real, everyday food.
Specifically, food in the early 1900s.
In the latest episode of For the Love of History, we peel back the wax paper on one of the weirdest and most unsettling chapters in U.S. history: the era when food was actively trying to kill people. No exaggeration. Between the absence of regulations, the rise of robber barons, and a general “eh, looks fine from here” attitude toward public safety, eating in the 1900s was a full-contact sport.
Let’s start with the event that inspired this episode’s delicious descent into chaos: the Great Molasses Flood of 1919. Yes, it sounds like something out of a Willy Wonka fever dream, but it was a real—and deadly—disaster. In Boston’s North End, a massive tank of industrial molasses (intended for rum production) exploded without warning, unleashing 2.3 million gallons of sticky death into the streets. It flattened buildings, bent steel, drowned horses, and killed 21 people. Why did it happen? Because the United States Industrial Alcohol Company skipped silly little things like structural engineers and maintenance inspections. Who needs those when you’ve got brown paint to cover the leaks?
But the molasses flood was just the icing—er, glaze—on a very poisoned cake.
Most people don’t realize just how dangerous food was before the FDA existed. Before 1906, there were no food safety laws at all. Grocery store coffee was frequently cut with lead and dirt. Cinnamon? Mostly brick dust. Sugar and milk? Laced with plaster of Paris, powdered bone, and formaldehyde. Even baby formula wasn’t safe, offering little to no nutritional value. And yet, it was all perfectly legal.
The government didn’t get involved out of concern for public health. Oh no. It took Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle publicly shaming the meat industry—and threatening its profits—for any real action to happen. Even then, meaningful reform took decades, and much of it was fiercely resisted by companies and even consumers.
The episode explores not only what was in the food but how it was stored and transported. Industrial maintenance was practically non-existent, especially in food production. If a machine or tank looked okay from across the room, that was considered good enough. Children were often the ones sent inside these massive machines for inspections—because their tiny bodies could fit into dangerous spaces. If they died? Oh well. Half a year’s pay to the family, if they were lucky.
The Great Molasses Flood was a direct result of this chaotic lack of oversight, and its aftermath forced lawmakers to take factory safety more seriously. Just like the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire brought reform to garment work, this sticky tragedy finally forced change in the food and beverage industry.
Of course, no episode of For the Love of History would be complete without one last unhinged story: the Dublin Whiskey Fire of 1875. When 5,000 barrels of whiskey exploded and created a flaming river of booze, dozens of Dubliners drank straight from it—sometimes with their shoes. Thirteen people died, not from burns, but from alcohol poisoning via flaming, foot-infused whiskey. And yes, it’s as wild as it sounds.
This episode is messy, sticky, tragic, hilarious, and absolutely horrifying—in other words, peak weird history.
So go pour yourself a beverage (maybe skip the molasses), press play, and prepare to be grateful for the FDA—even if it’s still kind of a mess.
📢 Ready to get grossed out and deeply entertained?
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