The cover of the Boston Daily Globe, January 16, 1919, detailing the disaster. How slow is molasses in January?  Not as slow as you might think.  On January 15, 1919, it was estimated to have moved about 35 miles per hour.  That was the day a large tank containing molasses, 50 feet tall and 90 feet around, burst in Boston’s North End, spilling molasses across Commercial Street and beyond. January 15 was an unusually warm day, hitting about 40º F, following a cold snap.  The rapid warming likely built up pressure that compromised the integrity of the tank.  Rivets popped out of the side of the tank at the Purity Distilling Company as the wall began to collapse, unleashing over 2 million gallons of molasses.  A wave of molasses 25 feet high rushed out, knocking small buildings off their foundations, damaging the girders of the overhead railroad, and flooding several blocks with anywhere from two to three feet.  21 people were drowned in the molasses...

His Majesty King Charles I, namesake of the Charles River in Massachusetts In the early 17th century, Captain John Smith completed a survey of much of the land that would later be called New England.  When Captain Smith returned to England to present his findings to King Charles I, he showed him a map of the new land and suggested to His Majesty that he should feel free to change any of the “barbarous names” on the map to more “civilized” ones.  King Charles did decide to exercise this privilege, and switched out four of the “barbarous names” he found.  One of those names that the king felt had no place in civilization was the name of a river, which was henceforth called the Charles River.  (That river’s long-forgotten “barbarous” name was the ponderously long “Massachusetts River”.  Thank heaven we don’t have to wrap our mouths around a word like that anymore.) The Charles is not very long, as rivers go.  It’s about 80 miles long, and drains roughly...