Posted: May 2, 2025 11:29 am
By Nikki Bosley, Heritage Johnstown staff
“It was only a question of time until the dam would break.” – John Fulton
It was 7:00 a.m. on the morning of May 31, 1889, and John Fulton, General Manager of the Cambria Iron Company, boarded a train headed to Connellsville, Pennsylvania where he was assigned to inspect the coal and coke production in that region.
“A great rain last night. Some 8 inches of water fell,” he remarked that morning prior to his departure.
Despite the heavy rain, he didn’t display any qualms about traveling, and he fully expected to arrive back in Johnstown later that night.
Fulton’s story began at Drummed Cross, county Tyrone, Ulster Ireland where he was born on October 16, 1826. He was one of six children of Reverend Thomas and Maria (McKeown) Fulton.
After being schooled in civil engineering in Dublin, Fulton sailed to America in 1848, settling in Pennsylvania, and quickly found work as an engineer on various canals and railroads. In 1874, following his employment at Huntingdon and Broad Top Mountain Railroad and Coal company, he decided to strike out on his own.
“I had cards prepared with the design of opening an office for general public mining operations,” remembered Fulton. “In the distribution of these, one fell into the hands of Hon. (Daniel) J. Morrell, General Manager of the Cambria Iron Company.”
Morrell offered Fulton a position of General Mining Engineer at a salary of $3,000 per year with all traveling expenses pa
id for general surveying work of mines throughout Pennsylvania and neighboring states.
Five years into Fulton’s employ, The Johnstown Tribune reported that a new club was being planned at the site of the old South Fork Dam and Western Reservoir, built originally as a feeder reservoir for the Pennsylvania Canal. The Pennsylvania Railroad put the canal out of business in 1854, and the reservoir area had been long-abandoned and neglected when Benjamin Ruff, a former Pennsylvania Railroad employee, purchased the property in 1879 for $2,000 with intentions of turning it into a summer escape for Pittsburgh industrialists.
Fulton’s association with the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club began in November of 1880. When reports of poor quality work and unsafe repairs at the dam filtered down into Johnstown, Morrell quickly sent Fulton, who was also schooled in geology, to meet with Club officers and report back on his findings.
Fulton and his assistant were met at the South Fork property with Club President Colonel Elias Unger, Club charter member and stockholder Casper Augustus “C.A.” Carpenter, who Fulton identified as the “Secretary of the Board of Directors” and, reportedly, an engineer from Pittsburgh. One important link was missing…Benjamin Ruff.
The men explored the repairs taking place and discussed the work going on. Fulton concluded the dam should be entirely rebuilt with a new discharge pipe and large, heavy loose stone, or riprap, on its upstream face for shoreline protection and erosion control.
“I reported after careful investigation, that in making the repairs materials were used that were not permanent, roots of trees, branches, &c.,” remembered Fulton in his memoirs. “Besides, there were some leaks that were liable to increase. I reported the whole matter, concluding ‘that it was only a question of time until the dam would break.’”
Although not shocked at the findings, Morrell was alarmed enough that he wasted no time in forwarding the report to Ruff, who sharply dismissed Fulton’s suggestions. Ruff concluded their exchange with a now-infamous retort: “You and your people are in no danger from our enterprise.”
Not satisfied, Morrell sent his complaint to the Pennsylvania Railroad, which responded by sending two of their own engineers to inspect work at the dam.
“One of the of them reported that it was unsafe, the other that it would stand, so between all no action was taken until too late to avert the calamity,” said Fulton.
Daniel Morrell purchased a membership in the Club, presumably to keep an eye on the safety of the dam — however, it is not known for certain how many times he visited.
On May 31, 1889, the heavy rain didn’t seem to alarm Fulton before or after his trip despite his findings nine years earlier — even after his train was stopped in Bolivar on the way back to Johnstown.
“Returning homeward at Greensburg at 4 o’clock I met John McFadyen who told me quietly that it was reported that very high water was alarming the people at Johnstown,” wrote Fulton. “At Bolivar Junction our train stopped suddenly, some terrible destruction had come to the railroad, but the wires were down and no definite news could be obtained … a number of Johnstown people were on this train and they asked me if I could give any information as to the flood, especially Mrs. Ellis asked, ‘If water could move a brick house?’ I thought not.”
With the train at a standstill, Fulton began walking the rest of the way to Johnstown Saturday morning. When he reached Morrellville he ran into Alex Hamilton, Rolling Mill Superintendent, and two men, William and Anthony Gilmore, who notified Fulton that his home had been “swept away – not a brick left.”
“My anguish was indescribable, for I inferred that if the house was destroyed the family was lost,” said Fulton.
He discovered later that his wife, Anne, and several family members all survived the flood by floating to safety on the mansard roof of their fine brick home, which had stood on the west side of Central Park.
“When the great wave struck the house; all rushed up to the third story and finally up on the flat area on the roof,” wrote Fulton of Anne’s story of survival. “The brick crumbled before the rush of waters, but the roof was securely formed and floated southward past the Presbyterian Church parsonage. Here Dr. Beale, the pastor, was looking out of one of the upper windows, but evidently was so alarmed that he failed to salute Mrs. Fulton and party, for which neglect my wife never quite forgave him.”
The Fulton roof eventually landed among flood wreckage near the lower end of Market Street. According to Anne, friends helped them over the wreckage to Alma Hall and then into the First National Bank where they spent the night in wet clothing, with no electricity and only a bottle of brandy for consolation throughout the night.
Anne’s perceived rebuff by Beale in the midst of tragedy was not the only disagreement the Fulton family had with the Presbyterian pastor.
Fulton was a leading elder at the First Presbyterian Church and actively involved there prior to Beale’s arrival. Although he wrote in his memoirs about Beale’s inability to effectively “feed the flock” prior to the flood of 1889, it seems much of his disappointment centered on Beale’s use of the profits of the publication of his book Through the Johnstown Flood: By a Survivor, which was published in 1890.
Fulton was also incensed by what he describes in his memoirs as “illegal” activities involving elder appointments and other miscellaneous alleged wrongdoings that divided many church members. Beale and his family finally left Johnstown on November 1, 1890.
In addition to being an active member of First Presbyterian Church on Main Street, Fulton was one of the original founders of Grandview Cemetery and a passionate temperance leader. He was promoted to general manager of the Cambria Iron Company in 1888 and held that post until 1892, when failing health forced his retirement.
“It was at that time that I returned to being independent, falling back on my old profession of Civil and Mining Engineer,” remembered Fulton, who continued his geological studies and traveled far and wide with his wife to places like Puerto Rico, Egypt and Palestine in his “retirement.”
In addition, Fulton continued his civic duties as President of the City Park Commission, Grand View Cemetery Association, and the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA). He was also active as the Chief Engineer of the State board of Health until his death on January 20, 1916. He is buried with his wife and children in Fulton Circle, Grandview Cemetery, here in Johnstown.
