August 6th, 1918
The First World War continues its brutal toll on the modern industrialized world. The Second Battle of the Marne has just ended.
In Niagara Falls, work continues on clearing sand and silt from the water intakes of the canals that supply hydro electric power plants on the American side of the river.
The Great Lakes Dredge and Docks Company are conducting operations near Port Day, for the Niagara Falls Power Company.
A mile upriver from the falls, the river’s current here is rapid. To secure the scow barges that carry the collected sand, silt and rocks upriver, where the contents are dumped into the deeper parts of the river, the company has several tug boats on hand.
But on this summer afternoon, the currents are strong and the river is unpredictable as ever.
At 3:10pm Captain John Wallace, in command of the tug boat Hassayampa, begins to tow a heavily loaded scow upriver.
Suddenly the tug grounds on a rocky shoal. The sudden stop, combined with the strength of the river currents are too much for the steel tow line. It snaps as if it were made of thread.
The 80-foot scow is now adrift and entering the rapids of the upper Niagara River.
The falls are just a mile away.
On board the scow are two deck hands.
Gustav Lofberg is a 51-year-old who lives on Mackinaw Street, upriver in Buffalo, New York Before immigrating to the United States from his native Sweden, Lofberg travelled around the world as an ocean-going sailor.
His co-worker, James Henry Harris, is a 40 years old rigger, has five children and also lives in Buffalo, on Niagara Street.
Captain Wallace, realizing the peril the men on the scow were in, and not able to extricate the Hassayampa from the shoal, orders the whistle to continuously sound, to alert other tug boats in the area of the emergency.
Almost immediately, Captain Enos White on board the Meyer, and Captain Charles Smith on the Kinch turn their boats and attempt to intercept the scow.
Rome Coddington, the superintendent of the Niagara Power Company, witnesses the events from the shore. He quickly contacts the fire departments of Niagara Falls Ontario and New York as well as the United States Coast Guard Stations, located at Fort Niagara and Buffalo.
The tug boats Meyer and Kinch put in a valiant effort to rescue the men, yet, the river currents are too strong. Soon they risk floundering on the shoals or worse, be washed downriver to the precipice of the falls.
They turn back to save themselves.
Despite the weight of the scow, it quickly picks up speed and is propelled into the western channel of the river, towards the Horseshoe falls.
Harris, the non-sailor of the two, begins to panic. He shouts to Lofberg,
“Look, we’re going over the falls …. We’re lost!”
The old Swed who has sailed the seas since his teenage years, stays calm and attempts to reassure the younger man.
“Well, we had only got to die once,” he quipped.
There is much speculation as to what happens next, but given Lofberg’s history upon the seas, and Harris’ lack thereof, it is fair to think that he takes charge.
It is reported that the men worked the winch to open the false bottom of the barge, in hope of flooding the cargo hold and running the scow aground. It is also said that they released the anchor.
The only thing we know for sure is that the scow runs aground on a shoal with only 2500 feet to the edge of the Horseshoe falls, one and quarter mile from where they started.
It is with great fortune that they not only stopped, but that the location they run aground is only 700 feet from, and almost perpendicular to, the Toronto Power Generating Station on the Canadian shore.
Word has spread along the Canadian Side. The Fire Department arrives on scene at Toronto Power, and with it a crowd in the hundreds.
As Toronto Power is critical infrastructure during the War, it is protected by soldiers. They keep the onlookers away from the station, but they line the banks of the river to catch the unfolding spectacle.
From this vantage point the two men on the scow could be seen. Lofberg ties a safety line to himself and can be seen attaching it to various stanchions as he moves. Harris by contrast, connects a safety line to a barrel, thinking if he falls, at least the barrel may get stuck in the rocks.
Various schemes are concocted by those immediately on the scene. A rescue boat was suggested by one, until another asked if the man who suggested it wanted to row it out himself. Another proposed dropping a line by an airplane, but this was seen as impractical.
Lofberg and Harris are not idle at this time. Under Lofberg’s supervision, they use sledges to remove parts of the scow that will interfere with the lines they knew will be fired to them. Deck timbers are removed so that a windlass, used to haul lines aboard a ship, could be fashioned from the onboard winch.
Chief AH Newman of the Niagara Falls Ontario Fire Department leads his men to the roof of Toronto Power. His plan is to use the small lifesaving gun to project a lightweight line to the men on the scow, which would be attached to a heavier line. Once connected to the windlass, Lofberg and Harris, would reel the lighter line on the windlass. Once the heavy line was secured to the scow, a breeches bouy, would be sent out to the scow.
A Breeches bouy is a harness used to transfer people from one ship to another, or to bring those aboard a boat to the shore. They have been used for centuries and are still in use today.
Chief Newman discharges the gun towards the scow, but the line falls short by 300 feet. The firefighters retrieve the rope and tried again, but their efforts fall short once again.
Disappointment is short lived.
Coast Guard Capt. A. D. Nelson of the Life Saving Station at Fort Niagara has arrived. The Fort was built by the French in the 1700s and has been in use ever since. Currently, along with the Life Saving Station, is home to the US Army, and trains men for the war in Europe.
Private Fred Daubney drives a truck loaded with a larger Lyle life saving gun, heavier rope and breeches boy in from the fort to Toronto Power in 35 minutes.
In an 1918 army truck.
Google Maps calculates the same route, today, over expressways in a modern automobile as a 40 minute trip.
The Fire Department, Coast Guard and Toronto Power employees set up a command post on the roof of the Generating station. The larger gun is assembled and with the first shot, the line passes over the scow. Lofberg and Harris quickly secure it to the windlass. On shore, the coast guard connected a heavier line to the one secured to the scow.
Lofberg and Harris start to take turns on the makeshift windlass and begin the long struggle to haul the larger line the 700 feet to the scow. Each rotation of the which is hard labour, and only moves the line three inches closer.
If that isn’t bad enough, the rope sags and dips into the Niagara River. It quickly becomes weighed down with water, only to be dragged downriver by the current. It takes over one hundred men on shore to pull the rope taunt to keep it from being lost.
If Lofberg and Harris are wet and exhausted on the Scow, the rescuers on the Roof of Toronto Power were sun burnt from a hot Ontario summer day. Furthermore, being on top of an electric generating station producing over 100, 000 kilowatts of power made an already hot day almost unbearable.
Three hours later, with twilight falling fast, the larger rope has reached the scow. The one hundred men who had pulled it taunt continued their efforts and drag the rope over the Niagara Parkway and secure it to the rails of the Niagara Street Railway.
It is now 9:30pm, over six hours from when Lofberg and Harris’ ordeal had begun.
Four large floodlights are set up to illuminate the scow, and the lines.
The rescue team attaches the breeches boy to the line and slowly moves it out. It has to be done slowly as to not foul the line. However, despite their best efforts, the first attempt ends in failure around midnight.
The lines are fouled and it is impossible to continue in darkness. Not wanting Lofberg and Harris to think they are being abandoned, the rescuers quickly cut messages into cardboard and placed them over the flood lights, making improvised signs instructing them to rest.
During the night, Chief Newman and Captain Nelson try to formulate a plan for sunrise.
As all too often happens on warm summer nights in the Niagara Peninsula, a thunderstorm announces its presence. But luck is with them this night as the threating rain never arrives.
Luck is on their side in more ways than one. William “Red” Hill, Senior had returned home from the European Battlefields three days earlier, with two bravery medals to his credit. He had been fighting overseas for the past four years, but was sent home after been wounded and gassed in his last battle.
A long stay in hospital has left him weak and severely underweight. He ss told to take it easy and regain his strength.
“Red” Hill does not take anything easy. Ever.
Before he joined the army, if someone needed rescue on the Niagara River, or worse, their remains needed to be pulled out of the rapids or the whirlpool, it was Red, the Riverman, who got the call.
In the Niagara Falls Ontario Telephone exchange, 717 was the Hill Residence, but it was akin to a modern 911.
But Chief Newman and Captain Nelson didn’t need to call Red. He is already on the scene. He approachs them and volunteers to fix the lines.
At 3AM he sets out.
With the flood lights illuminating his way across the river, he begins the journey, clinging to the ropes. But this isn’t the same Riverman who attempted to save Eldridge and Clara Stanton when the ice bridge collapsed in 1912. He was worn-out and weakened by war.
But that doesn’t stop Red. He works the lines for an hour, but to no avail. He climbs back to shore, determined to return.
After a brief rest, he goes back out at 6am August 7th. Hand over hand he crosses the river on the line, all while his wife and children stand by to witness to his bravery.
He manages to reach the tangled breeches boy and once there, works for two and a half hours, untangling the lines.
While doing so, he talks to Lofberg and Harris. He reassures them that they will get off the Scow. Working together, the three men unfoul the lines. It takes an extortionary amount of time as they are exhausted from exposure. Hill gets into the breeches boy and is hauled back to the station.
It is now 8:30 AM .
Captain Nelson sends the Breeches Bouy back out for Lofberg and Harris. It travels slowly to avoid entanglements. The crowd grows impatient with the progress, and begins to shout advice to the rescue party. Nelson is unfazed.
On the Scow, the men pull the breeches line in. Lofberg insists, repeatedly, that Harris will cross first. Perhaps it is Lofberg’s age, or the fact he is an experience mariner. Or maybe it was because he is a bachelor and Harris has children.
Despite Harris’ protests, he reluctantly seats himself, with Lofberg’s help, in the Breeches Bouy. Several times, the rope sags so low that Harris is submerged in the turbulent waters of the Niagara River. By 9:00AM he is on the dry roof of Toronto Power.
A cheer goes up from the crowd below. The rescue team tries to tend to Harris, but he isn’t having it.
Instead, he returns to the roof’s wall to look for Lofberg, unwilling to leave him. He is eventually convinced to take a taxi to the Cataract Hotel, but once there, refuses to eat or sleep until Lofberg arrives.
Meanwhile, the Breeches Bouy makes the trip back to the Scow. Lofberg waits patiently and once it arrives, he decides that instead of sitting in the bouy as Harris had, he stands on the seat.
After witnessing Harris’ soaked trip, he decides to take this approach to the crossing, and in doing so, keeps his feet dry.
Lofberg’s crossing is made quickly compared to Harris’. Red Hill, who was on a secondary roof of the powerhouse is the first to welcome him. When Lofberg gets to the roof of Toronto Power, cheers erupt. It was now 9:50 AM.
The old sailor looks battered. Those that know him said he appears to have aged ten years overnight. His dark locks are now white. As they move to get him off the roof and to the Cataract Hotel, he asked for some chewing tobacco, as he has run out.
Reunited at the hotel, the two men embrace. An older woman, upon seeing them, proclaims, “Thank God you’re saved! I prayed for half the night!”
In true Lofberg fashion, he replies, “It’s a good thing someone did! We never had time!”
They are examined by Doctor Musgrove, who is surprised to find them in good share with no visible injuries.
They tell reporters they were going home for a rest and will return to work the next day.
Which they did.
Rome Coddington, in the Buffalo Express Newspaper said on the 9th of August that no attempt would be made by either for the Hydraulic Power Company or the Great Lakes Dredge and Dock Company to salvage the Scow. While it was estimated the cost of replacing it would exceed $60,000 USD due to the cost of wartime steel production, it wasn’t worth the risk of life to salvage the scow.
James Henry Harris left the Great Lakes Dredge and Dock Company shortly after and took on a series of jobs that were on dry land. He died in Buffalo in 1939.
Gustav Lofberg remained a bachelor, but continued to work on the lakes, at least for a while. He moved to California, and gave speeches about the ordeal.
His nephew, Gus Lofberg, Jr. graduated from the US Naval Academy and commanded the USS Little . On the night of 4 September 1942 the USS Little challenged a vastly superior Imperial Japanese Navy force, then engaged in shelling American-held positions on Guadalcanal.
Lieutenant Commander Lofberg was listed as missing in action after the USS Little was set afire and sunk. He was posthumously awarded the Silver Star. The USS Lofberg was named in his honor.
Gustav Lofberg died in 1946.
William “Red” Hill was awarded the Carnegie Hero Fund Medal for his role in the rescue, along with the Royal Canadian Humane Association Medal.
Many believe that if it was not for the efforts of Red Hill, the rescue of Lofberg and Harris would not have succeeded.
Red Hill, the Riverman, continued to rescue people from the Niagara River for years to come.
He passed away, his life shortened by his wartime injuries, in 1942.
The Scow rested where it grounded for 101 years. Time and rust took its toll, leaving only one side, the side facing shore, somewhat intact.
On Halloween afternoon, 2019, a storm flipped the Scow, causing it to drift 150 feet downstream, where it once again grounded itself on the shoals.
Will this be its final resting place? Only time will tell.
