Shortly before midnight on March 7, 1928, the St Francis Dam, situated approximately 80km (50 miles) from Los Angeles, collapsed. No one witnessed the catastrophe – or survived to tell the tale – but later investigations revealed that the 56-metre-tall (184ft) structure failed completely, unleashing 12.4 billion gallons of water that surged through the San Francisquito Canyon, creating a 43-metre (141ft) wave.
Five hours post-collapse, the floodwaters emptied into the Pacific Ocean, leaving behind concrete rubble weighing up to 10,000 tonnes. By this time, the deluge had widened to nearly 3km (2 miles), devastating several towns, disrupting power throughout the area, and claiming at least 431 lives; many victims were swept out to sea, with remains discovered as late as 1994, extending as far as the Mexican border.
The dam had shown signs of cracks and leaks since its reservoir filled in 1926, but its builders dismissed these issues as minor and continued with their plans. The reservoir’s water, controversially sourced from Owens Valley—a lush oasis amidst a desert landscape between the Sierra Nevada and White Mountains, about 320km (200 miles) to the north—was deemed crucial for the burgeoning population of Los Angeles.
Over the subsequent two years, new cracks appeared and seepage became increasingly evident around the dam abutments at San Francisquito Canyon. By February 1928, significant leaks worried local farmers. Yet again, the dam’s chief engineer, William Mulholland, insisted everything was normal.
On the morning of the failure, Mulholland and his team conducted a detailed inspection and deemed the structure safe, although they acknowledged the necessity for repairs. Hours later, the dam gave way. An investigation later identified “defective foundations” as the cause of the breach.
This incident marked the most significant civil engineering disaster in America for the century—a consequence of westward expansion and the California Water Wars, a conflict between public interests and private enterprises that laid the groundwork for a century of disputes over the state’s most contentious resource.
‘We are going to turn that country dry’
Nearly 100 years later, water remains a critical issue for California. During the wildfires that struck Los Angeles in January 2025, firefighters faced challenges battling the flames due to low hydrant water pressure. Investigations attributed this to an unprecedented demand created by firefighting efforts; meanwhile, then-President-elect Donald Trump pointed fingers at state Governor Gavin Newsom, claiming the shortage arose from “overregulation”—primarily aimed at protecting endangered species in surrounding areas.
In recent discussions with firefighters, Al Jazeera learned that securing sufficient water to combat the fires appeared unavoidable.
“No urban municipal water system could sustain that,” noted veteran firefighter Bobbie Scopa. “Water shortages happen, especially during large fires.”
While water scarcity is undoubtedly a pressing concern amid historic droughts in California, the more significant issues related to the Los Angeles water system may involve the distribution, with residents often deprived as large agricultural and water investors extract or privatize the limited supply available. Studies from the University of Southern California reveal that merely 10 percent of state water is allocated to residents, while a staggering 80 percent is utilized for crop irrigation.
This scenario reflects a prolonged series of events that commenced with the establishment of the water system a century ago, leading to a pattern of resource theft, political corruption, and ultimately deadly outcomes following the dam’s failure. The result is a precarious future in which vulnerable populations are increasingly deprived by dominant business interests.
“The narrative of California in the twentieth century is one of a state constructing its identity through water,” wrote William L Kahrl in his 1982 book, Water and Power: The Conflict Over Los Angeles Water Supply in the Owens Valley, often regarded as the definitive account of the history. Kahrl meticulously details the complex events that enabled water to flow to the city via a 375km (233-mile) aqueduct still in operation, allowing Los Angeles to thrive at the expense of Owens Valley, instigating violent disputes.
Long before this dry region became home to Americans during 19th-century westward expansion, the native Paiute peoples had been the first to irrigate Owens Valley during droughts between their seasonal migrations. With the arrival of settlers, proposals surfaced suggesting that Owens Valley could serve as a reservation for the Paiute. However, once the Los Angeles aqueduct was constructed to transport water from the valley to the burgeoning city, the tribe suffered immensely as the valley’s water dwindled, leading to economic collapse.
“Avoid Inyo County,” William Mulholland—who directed the ill-fated St Francis Dam project within the expansive aqueduct infrastructure—warned an associate early in the aqueduct’s inception. “We are going to turn that country dry.”
A rapidly expanding city
Kahrl states, “No other individual played a more vital role in shaping modern Los Angeles than Mulholland.” Today, his name is ubiquitous throughout the city, prominently displayed on signs for Mulholland Drive. Though he became a pivotal figure in California’s history, he hailed from modest beginnings.
Born in Belfast, Ireland, Mulholland joined the British Merchant Navy at 15, reaching Los Angeles in 1877 (when the population was a mere 11,000) by the age of 22, subsequently landing a position as a ditch digger at the Los Angeles City Water Company under superintendent Fred Eaton. The two quickly formed a friendship, and when Eaton resigned in 1886 to chase political ambitions, he appointed Mulholland, who had ascended the ranks, as his successor.
In 1898, Eaton was elected mayor of Los Angeles largely on a platform promising to provide water to the rapidly growing city, which had ballooned to about 100,000 residents. The following year, voters endorsed a bond for the city to acquire the Los Angeles City Water Company, which was subsequently municipalized and renamed the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power (LADWP) in 1902.
Initially, city planners hesitated to retain Mulholland as the department head due to his lack of formal leadership experience. However, they soon realized they had no choice as he had spent the prior two decades designing and constructing the city’s water systems without any formal documentation. “He retained all information—the size of every pipe, the age and location of every valve—in his mind,” Kahrl wrote.
Mulholland developed a deep affinity for his newfound city and envisioned its growth—and how he could amass wealth in the process. Shortly thereafter, he initiated efforts to import water to bolster local aquifers, making exaggerated claims of an impending crisis.
“If Los Angeles exhausts its water for just one week,” Mulholland declared, “the city will lose its population of 100,000 within a year.” At that moment, the city’s population had already surpassed that number and was fast approaching 300,000.
Many experts have since deemed these assertions dubious, but nonetheless, the city began seeking nearby water sources. Fred Eaton had long recognized Owens Valley as a prime candidate.
‘Sell out – or dry out’
Owens Valley, along with its 285 square-kilometre (110 square-mile) lake—“a small oasis in a barren landscape”—was seen as an ideal target due to its ample water supply and the advantageous elevation of 4,000 feet (1.2km), allowing water to flow swiftly down an aqueduct toward Los Angeles without electric pumping. However, this ambition was complicated by the federal Bureau of Reclamation, already engaged in irrigating the valley for local farmers with the water Mulholland and Eaton coveted.
Initially seeming to thwart their ambitions, Eaton struck a deal with regional engineer Joseph Lippincott, a longtime friend managing the Bureau’s operations. Eaton hired Lippincott as a consultant for Los Angeles, doubling his federal salary in exchange for consulting on the irrigation project. This arrangement enabled Eaton to obtain vital information about local land ownership necessary to secure the valley’s water rights.
In the ensuing years, Eaton and Mulholland began discreetly acquiring property from the Owens Valley ranchers—whose numbers had reached around 4,000—and transferred the water rights from these lands to Los Angeles.
While some were reluctant to sell, Mulholland pressured others by falsely claiming the Reclamation Service planned to terminate the irrigation project, presenting the choice as “sell out or dry out.” Eventually, LA controlled 90 percent of the valley’s water, rendering the Bureau incapable of continuing its efforts even if it had desired to.
With water secured, the LADWP needed substantial funds—$23 million (equivalent to $626 million today)—to build the aqueduct; however, a bond lacked voter backing.
In 1905, Mulholland ordered the LADWP to start discharging water reserves into the ocean, creating a sudden shortage that he claimed was a normal process of clearing runoff. This ruse inspired the 1974 film Chinatown, although it was set in the 1930s, and Mulholland’s fictional counterpart, Hollis Mulwray, was portrayed as sympathetic as he opposed constructing a new dam, reflecting on the St Francis Dam disaster.
Regardless, the deception succeeded; citizens of Los Angeles became convinced their water access was in jeopardy, and the bond was approved. However, construction costs escalated, and the city charter prohibited accruing debt beyond 15 percent of its valuation, dictated by population and size. This catalyzed the next phase of Mulholland’s strategy, allowing him to tackle two challenges simultaneously.
In addition to funding, the city required water storage solutions, and Mulholland turned his attention to the neighboring San Fernando Valley aquifer for storage potential. Yet, again, the charter obstructed as it outlawed selling, leasing, or using city water outside Los Angeles.
Consequently, Mulholland advocated for the valley’s annexation, providing both storage and enhancing the city’s size and valuation, increasing its debt ceiling, enabling more borrowing for aqueduct completion. Valley residents ultimately supported the annexation following extensive lobbying from Mulholland and his associates.
Simultaneously, investors linked to Mulholland and Eaton acquired land across the valley, anticipating its value skyrocketing as irrigated LA real estate. Known later as the San Fernando Land Syndicate, their group included Harrison Otis, publisher of The Los Angeles Times, who consistently exploited his publication to advance Eaton and Mulholland’s narratives.
Construction of the aqueduct commenced in 1908 and concluded in 1913. At the dedication ceremony, Mulholland gestured toward the flowing water and said to the mayor, “There it is – take it.”
The California Water Wars
Ultimately, Owens Lake was completely drained between 1913 and 1934, but not before residents mounted dramatic, sometimes violent resistance.
“The conflict was extremely contentious as it represented one of the earliest significant water transfers,” notes Andrew Ayers, a professor at the University of Nevada, Reno, and a research fellow at the Public Policy Institute of California’s Water Policy Center. With minimal legal precedent, he states, “people had to navigate through the uncertainty.”
The ranchers in Owens Valley—whose population reached around 7,000 but soon entered a prolonged decline—resorted to using dynamite against the aqueduct.
According to Kahrl, Mulholland “persistently underestimated the intensity of the resentment his strategies incited…. Night riders roamed the backroads of Inyo, attacking the aqueduct” with explosives and threatening anyone believed to be associated with the LADWP.
The peak of these attacks occurred on November 1, 1924, when a group of outraged farmers detonated the aqueduct’s emergency spillway in the Alabama Hills, allowing water to flow back into the valley. These events were dramatized in the 1939 film New Frontiers, where John Wayne leads a revolt against oppressive water interests.
The Los Angeles Times—whose publisher benefited financially from the aqueduct that would enrich the San Fernando Valley—framed the conflict as “the forces of law and order against Socialism—peace and prosperity against misery and chaos—the Stars and Stripes against the red flag.”
While individual ranchers sometimes acted independently, many were organized and financed by local businessmen Wilfred and Mark Watterson, who owned the Inyo County Bank. However, in August 1927, the bank collapsed, obliterating many locals’ life savings.
When the Wattersons confessed to funding their opposition to Los Angeles, they faced 36 counts of embezzlement and grand theft totaling $450,000.27 (over $8.2m in today’s terms). The Los Angeles Times vilified the brothers as “mobsters,” making erroneous claims about their affiliations with the Ku Klux Klan, but at their trial, they were met with cheers from hundreds of farmers.
“As the district attorney delivered his closing arguments, he broke down in tears, causing the judge and jury to weep alongside him,” Kahrl wrote. The Wattersons, sentenced to 10 years in prison, were the only individuals to face criminal penalties related to the water uprising.
This court decision effectively concluded the conflict. With the lake entirely dried up, the lush local terrain previously sustaining agriculture became parched, devastating the economy in Owens Valley, particularly affecting the Paiute people, who had long inhabited the area.
Owens Valley eventually emerged as the leading source of dust pollution in the nation. Following the construction of a Japanese internment camp during World War II as a precaution against sabotage after Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor, one internee later recalled: “We slept in the dust; we breathed the dust; and we ate the dust.”
During this tumultuous period, Mulholland fell out with Eaton after Eaton refused to sell a piece of property Mulholland needed for a reservoir. Consequently, Mulholland invested several years and $1.3 million (financed through yet another municipal bond) on the ill-fated St Francis Dam. Reports from construction workers later revealed that “the focus was heavily weighted on overcoming obstacles and achieving results” with little regard for safety.
Following the dam’s failure, a jury cleared Mulholland of criminal charges, but he took full responsibility for the tragedy and openly expressed remorse. “I envy the dead,” he confided to the county coroner.
He resigned and vanished into obscurity, living the remainder of his life in seclusion until passing away in Los Angeles in 1935.
The water wars continue
The state’s battle over water remains far from resolved.
“Water is a vital resource in the American West,” Ayers emphasizes. “It’s easy to fall into a situation where conflict and controversy not only dominate narratives but dictate operational modes, making efforts to foster cooperation and collaboration incredibly beneficial.”
In the century since the California Water Wars, disputes over the region’s water have persisted. Currently, the Los Angeles Aqueduct supplies about one-third of the city’s imported water, with the remaining sources originating from the Colorado River and other areas throughout California.
“Multiple conflicting interests exist within the delta,” Ayers notes, referring to the Sacramento-San Joaquin River delta that supplies much of the water. “As we divert significant amounts of water from the wetter northern regions to the drier south, how this system is managed has repercussions for various stakeholders.”
In recent years, these competing interests have put homeowners at odds with major producers of water-intensive crops such as almonds, oranges, and pomegranates. Residents living alongside these agricultural areas frequently report low water pressure or entirely dry wells as diminishing supplies are funneled to sustain agricultural practices. Consequently, many homeowners find themselves without a reliable water source and unable to sell their now-uninhabitable properties.
These modern water disputes have been largely fueled by the 1994 deregulation agreement known as the Monterey Plus Amendments. This deal, struck secretly between the California Department of Water Resources and various water contractors, transferred ownership of public water supplies in Kern County east of Los Angeles to the Kern Water Bank Authority, dominated by agribusiness interests. Since then, a burgeoning industry of private water banks has emerged, enabling those in control to set prices and allocate access, forcing residents in vulnerable regions to pay exorbitantly while others face complete depletion of resources.
After two decades of public outcry regarding the situation, California enacted the Sustainable Groundwater Management Act in 2014, aiming to establish a sustainable water system by 2042. This act grants local water agencies increased authority over their groundwater reserves while mandating the development and implementation of plans to prevent excessive use and related adverse impacts, such as ground subsidence. Nevertheless, public water advocates contend that these measures are insufficient, given the pervasive crisis and ongoing trend of private water ownership.
In the meantime, as homeowners face dwindling water supplies and hydrant pressures drop, the agricultural sector in the state continues to report profitability increases year after year. Meanwhile, temperatures keep rising.
