Historical interpretive essay by Ray Breun. Claims about storms, casualty figures, word origins and neighborhood change are preserved as the author’s 1982 account and need independent verification before factual reuse.
There seem to be two competing explanations for where the English word “tornado” comes.
One suggests it is simply a misspelling of the Spanish “tronada,” which is a thunderstorm.
The second proposes a relation to the Spanish word “tornar,” meaning “to turn.” As far as the written evidence goes, however, it is a purely English word.
In modern French, the word “tornado” is declared a derivative strictly from English.
The two oldest references, both in English, are credited to Richard Hakluyt, a geographer, in 1589, and Samuel Pruchas, a clergyman and traveler, in 1625.
When European travelers came to the Mississippi Valley in the nineteenth century, many referred to the violent turning storms we call tornadoes as hurricanes. John J. Audubon among others could only find comparison in the great winds of the open sea when trying to give easterners and Europeans some appreciation for these great storms of the river valley in midcontinent.
The worst storm of the century hit St. Louis at the end of that nineteenth century and converted a German neighbor. hood into a slum. Late in the afternoon of Wednesday, May 27, 1896, it struck.
It had been terribly hot that day—it had been a hot spring.
Many of the neighbors were outside in the street and this may have saved those who otherwise would have been crushed in collapsing homes and factories. Thomas Pullis, owner of the Pullis Iron Works on the block bounded by Seventh and Eighth, and Hickory and Rutgers Streets, was on his way home when it hit. Like many other German factory owners in the area, he first worried about his family.
When he found them fine, he went back to see his factory and found it was totally destroyed. Like the famous trees of Lafayette Square, the iron works had been blown away. Lafayette Square was the most desirable neighborhood in St. Louis after the Civil War until the tornado. Changing residential patterns had made Jefferson Avenue a major thoroughfare and this brought a lot of crowding into Lafayette Park.
The people were learning to live with somewhat unhappy crowds by making streets more private and traffic determined in certain areas.
Some of the people were moving to the new areas like Vandeventer Place before the tornado hit, but most of the wealthy liked their Victorian homes and had planned on staying.
It was close to downtown and the factories and blessed with churches and all the other appurtenances of gentle living.
By 5 p.m. on May 27, 1896, all that changed. Only the statue of Thomas Hart Benton dressed like Caesar survived in the park.
The park police house had to be repaired, but Benton went unsullied.
The storm was a combination of three tornadoes which combined just west of Lafayette Square and moved through the park into downtown, across Eads Bridge and into the railyard on the east side.
It was considered a miracle that only about 150 people died. Over 1000 more were injured, mostly in the poor residential area just northeast of Lafayette Park and toward the river factories. Eads Bridge itself was damaged—trains were tossed around the eastern end of the bridge and stones were dislodged on the western abutment. Nobody talked about the bridge being overbuilt again.
The Germans left the area in droves. Land values went up dramatically in the west part of the city along Grand Avenue.
The poor who lost their homes east of Lafayette Square began to move into the luxurious homes which now sold for little or nothing around the park.
Once the center of the French population, the Germans left just as fast as their predecessors.
The tornado of 1927 was probably worse meteorlogically speaking. Its storm crossed three states and killed nearly 1500 people in Missouri, Illinois and Indiana. Like the storm of 1896, it began on a hot day in the spring of the year. Be that as it may, St. Louisans remember the 1896 tornado as The Great Tornado.
The word “bonanza” is from the Spanish and means a “fair wind,” which is to say, a wind blowing in the direction desired.
One of the major ships hauling people to California was called the Bonanza.
Now it means a great strike, even of gold. Winds have brought change.
Some of those who have been living in Lafayette Square have found a bonanza as the houses they bought have increased in value—now that the tornado is nearly forgotten.
Originally published in The Paper, June 1982.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Archival transcription note: The essay’s storm dates, casualty figures, etymology and claims about neighborhood change are the author’s historical account and require independent verification before factual reuse. The 1927 passage appears to conflate separate storms; source wording is preserved.
Original source: SD_Times1982_06.pdf, printed page(s) 5; PDF page(s) 5.
