SOUTH MAN — Sunday marked 51 years since the Buffalo Creek Disaster, the worst flood in West Virginia’s history.
At approximately 8 a.m. on Feb. 26, 1972, a man-made coal slurry impoundment dam, which was operated by the Pittston Coal Company, burst following a prolonged period of heavy rainfall. The result of the dam bursting was 132 million gallons of black wastewater being unleashed onto the 16 communities that encompass Buffalo Creek.
The flood’s aftermath was widespread property destruction and the deaths of 125 people — three of which were babies who were never identified. 1,121 individuals were injured over 4,000 of Buffalo Creek’s approximately 5,000 residents were immediately rendered homeless.
More than 507 homes were destroyed, along with 44 mobile homes and 30 businesses. Property damage is estimated to be upward of $50 million or more.
As a way to remember and memorialize the devastating flood, a small gathering of survivors congregated at the Buffalo Creek Memorial Library at South Man Friday afternoon. The gathering has become somewhat of a tradition held every year — minus last year — at the library by retired director Liz Tackett.
As customary each year, the service began with a reading of the names of the deceased by the individuals in the room. Afterward, the survivors informally sit and talk about their memories from the flood and how it affected their lives.
Survivor Tim Hall, a Lundale native who now lives at Mud Fork near Logan, said the flood was worse than any other disaster because of the destruction it caused.
“You know, it’s not like your house burned down,” Hall said. “If your house burned down, you’ve still got your neighbors. You’ve still got your church. You’ve still got … but it was gone, just like being somewhere and a volcano went off and wiped out your entire village, and even after it was all over with, they went through there and tore out our little road and destroyed all of our little communities, and the people that wanted to couldn’t even move back to where they used to live at.”
“It hurts,” Hall said. “Nothing is the same around this place. We’re owned by the coal company. They created this place and they destroyed this place, and we are just disposable, basically. Our lives, our communities — the coal company created it, the coal company destroyed it.”
Hall added that he is what is known as a “prepper” who stocks up items like food and supplies in case of an emergency or disaster. He said he feels his experience with the flood is what led him to lead that lifestyle.
“I’m a bit of a prepper,” Hall said, “and that flood I think done it, because I don’t never want to be caught again with nothing. All we had was the clothes on our backs and I prep, I put back not a lot of food, but as much as Janet (his wife) will let me, and I prepare for nuclear war. I teach it. I go to fire departments and teach about nuclear fallout. I repair Geiger counters. I’ve got uranium and all kinds of radioactive stuff in my bedroom. I just got done buying a Geiger counter and rebuilding it for someone because everybody’s getting afraid of Russia right now.”
Gertie Moore was a bus driver when the flood happened and over a half-century later, she still grows emotional when hearing the names of the deceased and recalling the events of that fateful day.
“Me driving a bus, I knew about 80% of these people, and every name that went by, I can visualize them at that time,” Moore said. “It’s still very personal to me.”
Moore shared stories of two young children — Darla Dillon, 5, and David Adkins Jr., 4, both of Lorado — who perished in the flood.
“The little girl, Darla — in September, she was a Kindergarten student and she got on my bus one morning and her mother had cleaned house,” Moore said, “and she brought me some plastic flowers that she had got out of the garbage and brought to me, and I thought that was so sweet. The other, David Adkins Jr., he was the same age — five — he hadn’t started school either, but every evening, he was out and back then, they put braces in a fence and he’d sit right in that brace and he’d watch that bus every evening like he was saying, ‘Next year, I’m going to ride that bus.’ He didn’t make it. He didn’t make it … so all these kids, all of them I knew, I knew their parents.”
Survivor Fred Pierson, who lived at Saunders, never shared his story beyond his close family members or attended a memorial service until last year on the 50th anniversary. After last year, Pierson, who now lives in Scott Depot, made the drive home to Logan County once again to reminisce with other survivors.
Pierson said the flood had a rather unique impact on him — it caused him to conquer his fear of water. Pierson said he traumatized at age seven by the power going off during a rain storm and his grandfather knocking on the door.
“I was terrified of water,” Pierson said. “I didn’t want to drown. I was so scared. I would’ve took a gunshot or anything. I was terrified of water because I lived through it as a kid and I was just traumatized, but I tell you what, after that dam broke and I seen what I seen, I never was afraid of water again. Never. I didn’t have no fear for water, I’d just jump right in any lake or river and swim. Before that, I was terrified.”
Pierson recalled having to walk to Lorado and his father forcing his way into a company store in order to obtain formula for his infant sister, who was born Jan. 6 of that year. He said his family washed off and cooked chickens that were killed in the aftermath of the flood.
Pierson said the school he was attending, Lorado Grade School, was destroyed in the flood, and its principal, who he identified as Mr. Ramey, was killed. Pierson said he was flown out by helicopter.
“You talk about another terror, a man goes from high water and being scared to being up in the sky, so I went through that,” Pierson said. “They flew me out and we landed right here on this road. It goes between the hospital and the high school … and I remember when we got off, these people run up to us and they was writing down our names to get a recovery list for people that made it, and needless to say, there was groups of people that were sent there.”
Pierson said he still feels a bit of anger over the aftermath of the flood. In 1977, Gov. Arch Moore accepted a settlement offer of $1 million from the Pittston Coal Company. The state Legislature had sued Pittston for $100 million.
