Maritime disasters have a way of capturing the imagination. Movies, such as
Titanic or the Perfect Storm, songs like the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and TV
shows Disasters at Sea all seem to draw an audience to human tragedy. One story
frequently goes untold, and that is the story of the General Slocum. On June 15, 1904,
around 1,300 people put to sea and 1, 021 souls lost their lives due to negligence,
greed, and mismanagement. The official records record fire and drowning as the cause
of these deaths.
The vessel was named for General Henry Slocum, a Union officer in the Civil
War. His namesake was a paddle wheel, side wheel passenger vessel that was
chartered on this fateful day by St. Mark’s Evangelical Lutheran Church for a Sunday
school trip. The General Slocum was a popular vessel for picnickers and day
excursions. The vessel, filled with mostly German families, departed lower Manhattan
for a day trip that sadly never happened. What started as a day filled with hope, ended
with a race from Hell’s Gate to North Brother Island on board a flaming death trap.
This part of the story is known to those of us familiar with the tragedy. We know
of the rotten fire hoses, crumbling life preservers, and inadequate training. The tragedy
brought forth many heroes that day. From hospital workers and patients on North
brother island who went into the water to rescue passengers as well as bystanders who
rowed over on small boats. What is not well known is that this is the original boatlift of
New York. A dozen tugboats, two fireboats, a police boat, and more than a hundred
other vessels joined in the rescue effort. Some of the rescue ships, such as the tugboat
John L. Wade, caught fire while trying to get people off the General Slocum and out of
the water in the vicinity. In fifteen minutes, the Slocum had burned to the waterline.
According to the U.S. Coast Guard investigation, “ It is safe to say that had it not
been for the presence of two tugs, the Wade and Walter Tracy, which were laid
alongside the Slocum within a few minutes after she was beached, and a number of
small boats, the loss of life would have been from 200 to 350 greater. The net result
seems to be that the persons who were saved owed their lives in all but very few cases
to outside assistance, and without such assistance it is probable that not more than 5
percent of the passengers would have been saved possibly a total of 70.” Another
vessel, the Goldenrod, laid alongside the burning vessel rescuing people out of the
water. Two Riker’s Island prisoners and a prison doctor boarded a boat and rowed out
to assist, retrieving both dead and alive alike, delivering them all to safety. What is
amazing is that the professional boats had little training in the art of rescue. Although it
is a well-established maritime tradition for mariners to assist other mariners in distress,
training has been and remains very sparse as to how to assist. Many tugs pursued the
Slocum that fateful morning, some cutting loose barges to assist in the rescue. Arnot,
Wheeler, Sumner, Fidelity, and Margaret were among those to do so.
Captain John Wade assisted by pilot Robert Fitzgerald of the tug Wade Tracy
used his tug to create a bridge between shore and the burning General Slocum. He
dismantled his vessel to toss floatable material in the water for survivors to grab onto.
By staying so long to the Slocum his own vessel was set afire and needed to be
extinguished by the tug Golden Rod. He refused to move his vessel until the soles of his
shoes began to melt. It is estimated that he saved 100 people that day. Captain John L.
Wade subsequently was recognized by the North Side board of trade for his heroic
rescue efforts.
Captain Tom Flannery of the tug Walter Tracy pulled right up alongside the
General Slocum as well. His vessel was showered with children jumping and being
thrown from the burning vessel. While the tug Easy Time under James Ward braved the
fire and nosed up to the Slocum to rescue the captain and several officers.
The Massaoit, commanded by captain Fred Parkinson, was a deeper draft vessel
that was only able to get to within fifty feet of the Slocum. So, the coxswain, Carl
Rappaport, jumped into the water and swam to begin rescuing babies while the captain
was putting his lifeboats over to assist in the rescue efforts. Meanwhile the Franklin
Edson captained by Henry Fick pulled right up alongside the Slocum, risking fire to
assist the passengers. The FDNY fire boats Zophar Mills sped upriver picking up land-
based firefighters to assist with the rescue of people in the water where she was joined
by the Franklin Edison
They were joined by numerous police and firemen rowing boats from the shore to
assist. Recreational boaters of all kinds, from rowboats to motorboats sped to the scene
to assist. Launches such as Peter, operated by Peter Jensen and the Mosquito under
captain McGovern raced to the aid.
What is not well known is that this was, in many ways, the original New York boat
lift. Long before the maritime evacuation of September 11th, 2001, more than 150
vessels — tugboats, ferries, fireboats, police launches, excursion steamers, and
countless unregistered small craft — converged on the burning Slocum. Many of these
boats were never identified; their captains simply saw smoke, heard screams, and
raced toward danger. It was a spontaneous, city‑wide mobilization of mariners
answering the ancient law of the sea: to help those in peril.
Heroism is not always recognized. Today we recognize, not only by name, but by
association, all of those who put themselves into harm's way to rescue the survivors of
the General Slocum. Some of their names may be lost to the annals of history, but their
deeds stand for time memorial. If not for the brave rescuers who sailed into Hell’s Gate
and fire, the loss of life would have been even worse. This day is dedicated to their
devotion to the most ancient law of the sea, the duty to help another mariner in distress.