Rivers in the Desert

by Margaret L Davis

  “Well, Mr. Mulholland holds a unique position in the engineering world and I think his opinions on such matters are as good as can be obtained,” replied Van Norman firmly, adding that Mulholland often changed plans in accordance with suggestions from his staff.

  “But always reserved the major decisions for himself,” interjected Keyes.

  “Yes.”

  Pressed by Keyes, Van Norman admitted that Chief Engineer Mulholland held a position of responsibility to the city “that no man should have shouldered.” His refusal to shift responsibility to others was characteristic of the man known during his more than fifty years in the water department as a “straightforward fighter.”

  Invariably, the brilliant, self-taught engineer was light-years ahead of his subordinates in solving even the smallest problems and, wanted or not, responsibility was thrust upon his shoulders. Unlike bureaucrats who protected their empires by maintaining the status quo, Mulholland made a point to fill his staff with bright young administrators and engineers, making it his business to nurture their careers. In return he got back unyielding loyalty all the way down to the lower ranks of the department. But, as any new eager employee was quick to discover, the Chief always had the final word. All decisions, major or minor, in the operation of the department and the construction of the dam were his. Only when it came to paperwork did Mulholland relinquish control. Loathing sitting at his desk, preferring to work in the field, he relied on others, especially Van Norman, to handle the administrative nuisances.

  Like a matador waiting patiently in the center ring for his picadors to weaken the already dazed, exhausted bull for the kill, Keyes next allowed the jurors their first opportunity to question Mulholland when he was called to the stand. Repeatedly the jurors asked who had actually done the work in designing the dam.

  “Our engineering force collaborated on it,” Mulholland said wearily, adding that state engineer John Hendrix had inspected it at completion even though a state inspection was not required for municipal dams. Mulholland said he requested the inspection as added proof of its safety. “Mr. Hendrix spent half a day in his inspection, which is an unusually long time. I was confident the dam was a fine, safe dam.”

  Mulholland informed the jurors that over two dozen test holes were drilled into the conglomerate rock foundation on the canyon sides prior to construction. “I don’t know why these other engineers testifying here didn’t mention that. They must have known about them. The holes are there yet. I can show them to you. We filled them with water, left the water there two weeks and then we had to bail it out. It had not soaked in.”

  One skeptical juror produced a chunk of the conglomerate taken from the dam site, and said that it was a fragment from a piece that disintegrated when he had played the parlor game at home. “Well,” Mulholland commented, shrugging his shoulders. “That sort of thing was uncommon, but the whole foundation wasn’t made of that. You can find almost any mineralogical specimen you want to look for up there,” adding that it meant nothing.

  With patience and straightforwardness, Mulholland continued to answer the juror’s questions, but when the rumor was brought up by Keyes that Mulholland had been letting up in his rigorous hands-on style of supervision by delegating more duties to subordinates, Mulholland took issue to the implication that his physical and mental faculties were eroded by age and had affected his decisions in the construction of the St. Francis.

  “I haven’t been letting up,” he protested. “I’ve been working harder than I ever did in my life. I haven’t had a day off—the only vacation in my lifetime, I took about three months ago, through the Panama Canal to New York. In regards to my men, I am the first up in the morning, and the last to go to bed. There are a very few that beat me in the office in the morning.” Then he concluded in a tone of despair that gave sympathetic pause to just about everyone in the room, except Asa Keyes, “As far as letting up is concerned, I wish I could. I believe I will have to very shortly, this thing has got away with me.

  “Don’t blame anyone else,” he continued. “Whatever fault there was in the job, put it on me. If there were any errors in judgment—and it’s human to make mistakes—the error was mine.

  “I appreciate the job you have before you,” he said, facing the jury. “I haven’t anything to conceal. I’m waiting to hear the report of the geologists and, whatever it is, I hope it will be published to the world.”

  The crowded courtroom listening to the aging engineer sat in silence. “I am giving you all I know. I swear to God on my oath that I am.”

  KEYES’S CASE against Mulholland came to its climax the following day, Thursday, March 29, when a special board of investigative geologists and engineers were called to the stand. Hired by the district attorney’s office, they offered their findings on the collapse in a 112 page confidential report hand-delivered to Keyes. Keyes chose the final day of the inquest to dramatically introduce it and the geologists into the proceedings.

  Key testimony was presented by Allen E. Sedgwick, a congenial, highly regarded professor of geology at the University of Southern California.

  Sedgwick declared, as did the other geologists, that the eastern hill of the dam site was composed of a vein of quartz-mica schist, which continued across the stream to the west side, up the bank, running into a much softer conglomerate formation than that on the east side. The conglomerate was so badly weathered or “rotten” it would absorb great quantities of water and could not sustain great weight loads. In his opinion, it was evident that water had oozed through the entire conglomerate formation on which the largest portion of the dam was constructed. When the saturation was complete, the entire west side ground mass gave way under the immense pressure of the water in the reservoir, tearing a hole sixteen feet deep and forty-two feet wide into the hillside.

  “The dam then failed because of poor foundation, is that what you’re saying, Dr. Sedgwick?” asked Keyes somberly as he led the geologist through the series of questions that he knew would drive the last nail into Mulholland’s coffin.

  “The failure was due to defective foundation material, some of which, while reasonably hard when dry, becomes soft and yielding when saturated with water.”

  “And how could this determination have been made?”

  “Any competent geologist, once he studied the location, would have recognized that the dam was situated on incompetent geological formations.”

  “Do you know if any geologist ever studied this site for defects?”

  “No, sir, not to my knowledge. The site selection was completely in the hands of the Chief of the Department of Water and Power.”

  “Should a dam have ever been built at this location?”

  “No, sir. The dam as designed should not have been constructed at this location.”

  “Was it feasible to erect a safe dam at this location, Dr. Sedgwick?”

  “No, sir. It was not.”

  After the testimonies of the geologists, for all intents and purposes the coroner’s inquest was over. Only the verdict remained.

  A GROUP OF Mulholland’s closest friends and admirers decided to put together a private candlelight banquet at the Los Angeles City Club in tribute to their Chief, to bolster his spirits. Coaxed by his family and Van Norman, Mulholland attended, accompanied by Rose.

  Toastmaster for the occasion was C. A. Dykstra, who raised his glass and lauded Mulholland for his distinguished services to the city of Los Angeles. “A man with a mind remarkable for its breadth and brilliant wit. A man who can build an aqueduct, and a man who can also, beside a mountain campfire, while he boils his trout, discourse on profound structural geology. A man whose life has been spent in public service for the benefit of the masses in the land of his adoption. Remarkable for his originality of thought and analysis, yet equally active in the practical application of these ideals. Original in the minute details of construction, yet brave to the limit in conceiving and assuming the responsibility of the greatest projects. Kind, generous and tru
e to the public welfare, he stands as an example of what the applied scientist can do for his state when he holds his brief for the people.” The City Council, Mayor Cryer, the Governor of California, friends, colleagues, and fellow workers rose to their feet, clapping in a spontaneous and sincere standing ovation. Accepting their applause in a brief, typically humble, “peppered” speech, none but daughter Rose and a handful of closest friends knew the private torture he endured during the inquest and continued to suffer.

  DOZENS OF WITNESSES, engineers, amateur geologists, and survivors of the midnight flood had been heard—and yet no clear consensus about what caused the tragedy had emerged. The responsibility of determining the cause of the St. Francis disaster was now in the hands of the coroner’s jury, but not before Asa Keyes had delivered a short but powerful closing statement.

  “Ignoring warnings regarding the possible instability of the site, Chief William Mulholland may have succumbed to the worst traits of the autodidact—self-absorption edging into arrogance, a hostility to experts approaching culpable negligence.… Los Angeles had granted Mulholland the very power that ended in the great tragedy of the St. Francis.… In selecting the dam site Mulholland was acting alone, and it is up to you, Gentlemen, to determine who, if anyone is guilty of causing this catastrophe.”

  Keyes also reviewed the law’s provisions as to manslaughter, elaborating that “an honest mistake is not criminal negligence. It would be monstrous to charge a man with murder or manslaughter because of an error in judgment. If, in the erection, inspection, and maintenance of the St. Francis Dam … ordinary care, prudence, and honesty were exercised to do what was charged upon the builders—no criminal action could lie as a result of the dam’s failure.

  “It has been declared that if geologists had been employed by the Department of Water and Power, they might have disclosed the treacherous foundation on which the dam was built. They were not so employed. You must determine if it was criminal not to employ them. The matter was left to the judgment of one man and he may be the only man alive who can know for sure.… If the builders of the dam used all the care and prudence of which they were capable, if they acted according to their best judgment, it is not a matter for criminal prosecution.”

  Coroner Nance then addressed the jury: “Members of the jury, you are instructed that testimony based upon theory or suspicion only is not the best evidence, and that you are to give such testimony only such consideration as ordinary prudence would dictate. It becomes your duty to determine how, when, and where Julia Rising came to her death, as well as all the others whose names have been read into the record of this case, so that we can prevent this horrible tragedy from ever occurring again.

  “Gentlemen, God speed you in your deliberations.”

  17

  Redemption

  Redeem us

  for thy mercies’ sake.

  PS. 44:26

  WHEN ASA KEYES announced his intention to indict William Mulholland for manslaughter, he was bitterly accused of “Over-reaching in a vicious abuse of official power” by prominent judges, lawyers and city officials. He had been denounced in the past by colleagues and judicial officials for engaging in shoddy and petty prosecutions, and brusque reprimands for his lack of professional standards were not uncommon. His performance in the inquiry was not out of character. Compared to “a buzzard of the human species that forced itself into the public eye by condemnation and vilification of innocent public men in an attempt to appear like a hero vigilantly defending the people’s interests,” Keyes himself was vilified in withering, scornful public denouncements and asked to resign.

  As the Los Angeles Times commented gravely: “The trouble is that Mr. Keyes is not, in fact, the directing head of the District Attorney’s office; the office has, in fact, no responsible head.…The deputies have been allowed to run wild, most of them are careless and incompetent and some may be corrupt. If Keyes cannot or will not attend to the duties of his office, he should get out, and if he does not get out, he should be compelled to do so.”

  Many Los Angeles citizens protested that Keyes had gone too far in his attacks against Mulholland, and that Keyes’s verbal abuse of the Chief during the coroner’s inquest was cruel and unnecessary. Keyes was charged with “official blundering and dereliction” by two Superior Court judges, and the words of one editorial writer reflected the city’s anguish over the fate of their beloved hero and embarrassment at the cruel harassment by the likes of Asa Keyes. “The people feel a kindling sympathy for Chief William Mulholland … remembering the fable of the lion who was tormented by the gnat.” The tragedy of the St. Francis Dam had brought death and destruction to the Santa Clara Valley, and now had delivered “evil politics” to the city of Los Angeles as well. Like many public prosecutors voted into office espousing moral indignation, Keyes would, in his rampant, often suspect zeal, wind up an embarrassment to the very establishment that got him elected.

  But for now, as the entire city anticipated the jury’s verdict and while Mulholland tortuously waited, ensconced with Van Norman in his office at the department or at home with Rose, Asa Keyes basked in the spotlight, speaking to reporters at the slightest pretext and dining with colleagues in expensive restaurants near the Hall of justice, dismissing any criticism of his tactics as poppycock. “The fact is … to my supporters, I am a hero vigilantly defending the people’s interests,” Keyes righteously told reporters.

  On Friday morning, April 13, 1928, two weeks after the inquiry adjourned and one month after the collapse of the St. Francis dam, the nine jurors concluded their deliberations and filed into the inquest room, pushing their way through the throng of newsmen and onlookers waiting outside.

  The men sat with backs straight, hands folded, expressionless, as Juror Lawrence G. Holabird read aloud their decision in his high monotone voice.

  Responsibility for the St. Francis Dam disaster is placed on the Bureau of Water Works and Supply and the Chief Engineer thereof, and those to whom the Chief Engineer is subservient, including the Department of Water and Power Commissioners, the legislative bodies of city and State and the public at large. The destruction of this dam was caused by the failure of the rock formations upon which it was built, and not by any error in the design of the dam itself or defect in the materials on which the dam is constructed. The gravity section accorded with standard practice, and would have produced a safe structure if it had been built upon hard, impervious rock, as was supposed to be the case by those who built it.

  On account of the great destruction wrought by the disaster and the absence of living eyewitnesses, much important evidence bearing on the cause of the failure was obliterated, making it impossible to determine, with anything approaching complete accuracy, the exact cause of the initial break and the sequence of events thereafter.

  It was apparent that the entire personnel of the water department had an unusual degree of confidence in Chief Engineer William Mulholland and relied entirely upon his ability, experience, and infallibility in matters of engineering judgment. However, Chief William Mulholland and his principal assistants have had little experience in the building of large masonry or concrete dams previous to the construction of the St. Francis, and apparently did not appreciate the necessity of doing the many things that must be done in order to be certain that the foundations will remain hard, impervious and unyielding.

  As a result, various errors were made by an entirely responsible organization confident they were maintaining high standards of accomplishment.

  The jury found no indication of negligence on the part of workers who built the dam, concluding that the builders were “deceived and acted in ignorance.” In their final stinging reprimand, the jury foreman expressed the panel’s evaluation of the catastrophe, a haunting quote that made headlines throughout the nation. “The construction of a municipal dam should never be left to the sole judgment of one man, no matter how eminent.’

  “The jury recommends there be no criminal prosecution by the
District Attorney based on its findings of no evidence of criminal act or intent on the part of the Board of Water Works or any engineer or employee in the construction or operation of the dam. Errors of judgment, absent criminality, caused the tragedy.”

  In obvious deference by the jury to Mulholland and his supporters, the highly publicized, emotionally charged subject that Asa Keyes had managed so deviously to keep out of the proceedings was addressed only in closing: “Owing to previous attacks on the water system by the use of explosives, consideration has been given to the possibility that this disaster was precipitated by an overt act. While it is undoubtedly possible that the destruction of the dam could have been caused by an explosion, no conclusive evidence that such was the case has been brought before us. Even if the failure had been precipitated by this cause, it would not change the situation as far as concerns the existence of the defects that have been described and which were the more probable cause of the disaster.”

  After the reading of the verdict, a joyous Keyes could not conceal a smile. He saw himself as the prosecutorial David who had felled the Goliath of Los Angeles.

  The jury’s admission that sabotage was indeed possible, but evidence had not been brought forth to support it, was a hollow victory for Mulholland, now weeping in the hard oak witness chair, his face buried in his hands. To some, doubt had been cast upon the real cause of the collapse forever, but in the eyes of science and the law, the blame had been unequivocally placed on his shoulders.

  After their verdict was read, the jurors were dismissed. One by one, they filed out of the room, their faces gray, their eyes downcast. Bessie Van Norman quietly wept. The room was filled with a bewildered, quiet silence as the crowd slowly dispersed. Outside in the rotunda of the opulent Hall of Justice, the irrepressible Asa Keyes held a long victorious press conference, utilizing the sad occasion to further his political aspirations.