Jim McMahon/Mapman ®
The 1916 Tunnel Explosion
Garrett Morgan probably looked absurd. He stood on a platform in the middle of Lake Erie. He wore pajama bottoms and a strange hood over his head. Tubes poked out of the hood like elephant trunks.
But Morgan wasn’t worried about how he looked. It was July 25, 1916. An explosion had ripped through a tunnel deep under the lake. Two dozen men lay dying in a cloud of poison gas. It was up to Morgan to rescue them. He needed his hood to keep him alive.
The hood was Morgan’s invention. It was a gas mask that filtered out heat and smoke. He had been waiting to show the world that it worked. Now, he had his chance. He was going to prove it—or die trying.
Garrett Morgan probably looked absurd. He stood on a platform in the middle of Lake Erie. He wore a strange hood over his head. Tubes poked out of the hood like elephant trunks.
But Morgan didn’t care how he looked. It was July 25, 1916. An explosion had ripped through a tunnel under the lake. Two dozen men lay dying in a cloud of poison gas. It was up to Morgan to rescue them. He needed his hood to keep him alive.
The hood was Morgan’s invention. It was a gas mask that filtered out heat and smoke. He had been waiting to show the world that it worked. Now, he had his chance. He would prove it . . . or die trying.
Garrett Morgan probably looked absurd. He stood on a platform in the middle of Lake Erie, wearing pajama bottoms, with a strange hood over his head. Tubes poked out of the hood like elephant trunks.
But Morgan wasn’t concerned about his appearance. It was July 25, 1916. An explosion had ripped through a tunnel deep under the lake, and two dozen men lay dying in a cloud of poison gas. It was up to Morgan to rescue them. He needed his hood to help him survive.
The hood was Morgan’s invention: a gas mask that filtered out heat and smoke. He had been waiting to show the world that it worked, and now he had his opportunity. He was going to prove it—or die trying.