How a Deadly Explosion 70 Years Ago Led to Integrating the Navy

This week, relatives, historians and the general public are remembering one of the deadliest industrial disasters in United States history: a massive explosion in the Bay Area that took hundreds of lives during World War II.

Port Chicago was a Navy facility near Concord where sailors loaded munitions onto ships headed for the Pacific. On the night of July 17, 1944, the men were loading up the SS Quinault Victory and the SS E.A. Bryan when the mishandling of weapons led to a deadly explosion that killed 320 people. Of the men who died, 202 were African-Americans working in a segregated Navy. A Navy website describes what happened:

At 10:18 p.m., a hollow ring and the sound of splintering wood erupted from the pier, followed by an explosion that ripped apart the night sky. Witnesses said that a brilliant white flash shot into the air, accompanied by a loud, sharp report. A column of smoke billowed from the pier, and fire glowed orange and yellow. Flashing like fireworks, smaller explosions went off in the cloud as it rose. Within six seconds, a deeper explosion erupted as the contents of the E.A. Bryan detonated in one massive explosion. The seismic shock wave was felt as far away as Boulder City, Nevada. The E.A. Bryan and the structures around the pier were completely disintegrated. A pillar of fire and smoke stretched over two miles into the sky above Port Chicago. The largest remaining pieces of the 7,200-ton ship were the size of a suitcase. A plane flying at 9,000 feet reported seeing chunks of white hot metal "as big as a house" flying past. The shattered Quinault Victory was spun into the air. Witnesses reported seeing a 200-foot column on which rode the bow of the ship, its mast still attached. Its remains crashed back into the bay 500 feet away.

Pittsburg resident Frank DeRosa was 17 at the time. He was living several miles away and was carrying his baby sister to bed when he felt the blast.

"All of a sudden it was like a wind, like a tornado," he said. The large window behind him shattered, hurling shards of glass at his back, and cutting through his thick flannel pajamas.

"I got cut a few times, and mostly I was bruised," he said. "The little kid was in my chest and I was hunched over, so [she] never got one little scratch."

The next day, DeRosa climbed a nearby hilltop overlooking Port Chicago. The two warships that were being loaded with weapons were gone.

"It's pretty hard to comprehend, but two ships disappeared," he said. "There were pieces that flew past Pittsburg."

Sue Fritzke, of the Port Chicago Naval Magazine National Memorial, says the tragic event was likely the result of military officials (who were white) betting on which of their teams (who were mostly African-American) could load munitions into the ships faster. Fritzke says the teams had received little information about the munitions they were handling. They had not been informed that the munitions were live nor did they know what the proper safety protocols were.

The Port Chicago 50

Of the 320 men who died in the explosion, 202 were African-Americans working in a segregated Navy.

The surviving sailors had to recover the bodies of their fellow men from the scene, said Steve Sheinkin, author of The Port Chicago 50, an historical book for young adults. Just three weeks later, the men were marched to the nearby base at Mare Island, he said. The men weren’t sure what their new assignment would be until they were marched to the pier. They were going to be loading dangerous munitions again. “That’s when this mutiny happened,” he said.

More than 250 African-American sailors refused to return to work until they received proper training and clear instructions about how to load munitions safely. A Navy admiral threatened to shoot them if they didn't return to work. In spite of the threat of execution, a group of men, who came to be known as the Port Chicago 50, still refused to return to work.

Many of the Port Chicago 50 were just teenagers, a lot of them just out of high school, Sheinkin said.

"These guys stood up for what they thought was an injustice," Sheinkin said. "They said, 'We're not going back to the same conditions.'"

The Navy charged the Port Chicago 50 with conspiring to mutiny and sentenced them to 15 years in prison. After they'd served two years, the war ended, and they were all granted clemency. Only one has received a presidential pardon.

Military Civil Rights

The controversies surrounding Port Chicago were part of the beginning of the civil rights movement, Sheinkin said, comparing the Port Chicago 50's actions to Rosa Parks' decision not to give up her seat on a segregated bus. Their refusal to abide by the status quo caught the attention of national leaders and "led directly to the Navy deciding to make changes," he said.

Thurgood Marshall -- then a lead attorney for the NAACP -- heard about the Port Chicago 50 and asked Navy Secretary James Forrestal if he could sit in on their military trial. Watching the proceedings, Sheinkin said, Marshall came to believe the military judges had already made up their minds about the men. He filed an appeal and kept pressuring the Navy to reverse its decision. Eleanor Roosevelt also heard of the trial, Sheinkin said, and told Forrestal to make sure the men were treated fairly.

Feeling the pressure from national leaders in the wake of the disaster, Forrestal thought he had an opportunity to make a change, Sheinkin said. “I think he was a fair-minded person who didn’t support segregation to begin with.” Forrestal began by integrating a few Navy ships, Sheinkin said, and found that it worked.

In 1946, the Navy became the first military branch to be completely integrated, Sheinkin said. In 1948, President Harry Truman signed an executive order integrating all branches of the armed forces.

"Truman got a lot of credit in the history books for the executive order, but that was two years later," said Sheinkin. "If these guys hadn't taken this huge risk, then it never would have gotten so much attention."

On Saturday, July 19, from 9 a.m. to noon, a public commemoration, film screening and tour will take place in Richmond at the SS Red Oak Victory, a ship of the same class as the two that were destroyed at Port Chicago.