THE UNKNOWN: Charles Hatfield, Rainmaker

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Who wouldn't want to control the weather?

You could have the perfect beach day anytime you wanted.

A thunderstorm when you wanted to stay in, a breeze as you fall asleep, even a light drizzle to water your plants.

I feel like the weather even affects my mood so much that it would almost be like being able to control my emotions.

But what if you could only control this power so much?

Like you could make it rain, but you never really knew how much it would be.

Could be one inch, could be 10.

What if one day things got a little out of control?

You were no longer just playing with people's emotions.

You were playing with their lives.

This is the story of the rainmaker, Charles Hatfield.

This is Supernatural.

I'm your host, Ashley Flowers.

This week, I'm looking at Charles Hatfield, a self-proclaimed rainmaker who had a lot of skeptics until he summoned a storm so wild it marked the wettest period in San Diego history.

Suddenly, his mysterious technology didn't seem so hokey anymore.

It seemed downright dangerous.

I'll have all that and more coming up.

Stay with us.

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Ever since ancient times, people wanted to understand the weather.

But without science, they had to invent creative ways to explain it.

So the Greeks told stories about a pantheon of gods who used weather for their own ends.

The book of Genesis gave us the story of Noah and the catastrophic flood.

But by the time the industrial age was in full swing, people wanted to do more than explain the weather.

They wanted to control it.

After all, by the 19th century, powers that once seemed impossible, even supernatural, were becoming commonplace.

Humankind had harnessed electric light in glass bulbs.

Couldn't someone figure out how to control the rain?

The first man to vie for the title of scientific rainmaker was James Pollard Espy, an American meteorologist.

He believed that he could set these massive forest fires that would heat the air up and create enough condensation to make it rain.

Unfortunately for him and the forests he obliterated, his theory didn't work.

Throughout the rest of the 19th century, other would-be rainmakers had similar non-results.

And pretty soon, people began to suspect that the whole concept of weather modification was just wishful thinking until the early 20th century, when a self-taught weather aficionado enters the picture with a bit more optimism.

His name is Charles Hatfield.

As a young man, Charles is working a day day job as a sewing machine salesman when he comes across these stories about rainmakers like James Pollard Espy.

And he's like, these guys are peddling something valuable.

More than hope, they're selling life.

Charles spent his youth working on his father's ranch in California, so he understands the importance of rain.

Watered crops means a healthy harvest, which means enough food to eat.

If you could find a way to prevent droughts, there might never be another famine.

And sure, every attempt at actually doing it has been a pretty big failure, but maybe Charles can crack the code.

And if he can, he can definitely make a pretty penny off the deal.

So Charles learns everything he can about meteorology, atmospheric pressure, humidity, wind patterns.

It's not a formal education, but he feels like he really has a knack for it.

And when he's done with his books, Charles starts experimenting.

He climbs a windmill tower near his father's ranch and starts messing around with some chemicals to create his secret formula.

I'm not exactly sure what these experiments are or what goes into his miraculous rain potion.

Charles never tells anyone his secrets, but I do know that by 1904, a 29-year-old Charles is ready to go public with his new technology.

He places some ads in the local paper calling himself a moisture accelerator.

His work isn't magic, he stresses.

He says, quote, I do not make rain.

That would be an absurd claim.

I simply attract clouds and they do the rest.

The ads catch the eye of some ranchers just outside LA.

They're super intrigued, especially because the former salesman has an incredible pitch.

Charles promises a no-money down guarantee.

Nobody has to pay him until after it rains.

And he's only asking for 50 bucks, which is worth about $1,500 today.

And don't get me wrong, that's not pennies, but ranchers are used to hefty business expenses.

And if there's a drought, they lose much more.

And plus, Charles doesn't look like a con man.

He clearly has ambition and a healthy dose of bravado, but he's serious about what he's doing.

He looks like he's been in his lab for so long, he hasn't seen the sun in years.

Now, there is something a little off about his piercing blue eyes, but it's the kind of off that could just be the mannerisms of a genius.

So in the end, the ranchers are like, you got yourself a deal.

On the big day, the ranchers show up to watch Charles's process.

There's a lot that goes into it.

First, there's this wooden platform elevated on tall stilts.

Charles apparently calls this his evaporating tower.

It's so tall, it looks like it sways with every light breeze, but that could also be a mirage from the overbearing heat.

Next, Charles hauls up some of his secret sauce and pours it into these big shallow trays where it will eventually evaporate.

Naturally, he doesn't tell the ranchers what's in the mixture, but he does give a few hints.

It's a concoction of 23 different chemicals aged in casks.

Throughout the day, Charles keeps talking up his science.

He assures his clients that it's the future.

But for all his confidence, there's still a slight furrow in his brow.

He needs this to work.

He can see his future success so clearly, he can almost taste it.

But he doesn't dare breathe a sigh of relief until days later, when it starts to rain.

In the end, Charles's technology seems to deliver on his promises.

Sure, it could have been a coincidence, but it doesn't matter.

It rains enough to get him paid and to leave the ranchers singing his praises.

Charles Hatfield, Rainmaker, has credibility, and he wastes no time putting it to use.

Later that year, he shows up in Los Angeles with his vats of chemicals, and in no time at all, he catches the attention of the city's business leaders.

Charles says he can make 18 inches of rainfall from the sky in the next five months.

Of course, he has seriously upped his rate.

At this point, it will cost them $1,000 or close to $30,000

today.

But he's still offering his same money-back guarantee, and he suspects these city folk have some pretty deep pockets.

And that's a good bet.

Not only do they have the money, they're desperate.

It's been devastatingly dry lately.

If Charles can deliver, it would save all the crops and reservoirs in Los Angeles, which in turn would save lives.

And really, can you put a price tag on that?

After the deal's made, Charles gets to work.

Once again, he does everything in broad daylight.

No secrets.

LA residents gather to watch as he builds his tower and pours his special chemical recipe.

Then they wait for rain.

Of course, it doesn't happen instantly.

Charles reminds his impatient patrons that it's science, not magic.

The chemicals have to rise with the heat, react with the air, and attract clouds.

Only then will the condensation build and everyone will see the results.

And sure enough, by the end of his five-month deadline, it starts to rain.

In fact, he exceeds his promise of 18 inches by an inch or two.

The entire city is thrilled.

Charles becomes this subject of public fascination, a minor celebrity and white knight.

One headline declares, young wizard of meteorology proves his ability to fill orders for rainstorms.

Now, Charles has some real momentum.

This is what he'd always dreamed of accomplishing: money, fame, success.

He works steadily from 1905 onwards for everyone from water companies to cotton farmers to miners.

He travels the country from Oregon to Washington to Texas.

Meanwhile, he is rolling in cash.

For four inches of rain, he's paid the equivalent of over $120,000 today for one gig.

By 1915, he's racked up 17 different commercial contracts.

Does he sometimes fail to produce rain?

Yes, but you can't win them all, especially with so many elements at play.

Temperature, pressure, wind, all that meteorology stuff lay people wouldn't understand.

The press falls for it.

They don't pay much attention to Charles's failures.

In the grand scheme of things, one magazine writes, his disappointments have been very few.

Of course, very few is very vague, so I don't know Charles's exact success rate, but none of that matters because one big storm can wash away every failure.

And sometimes it washes away a few lives in the process.

Coming up, nature shows its strength.

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Now back to the story.

In 1915, San Diego is hot.

It's dry, and that's a problem.

See, the Panama Canal just opened, which means boat traffic up the west coast is going to be ramping up.

San Diego wants to stake its claim as the go-to port for all these boats.

So the city plans this huge promotional event.

It's meant to be like Olympic level big, but if rain doesn't start falling, there's going to be no water to drink and no crops to feed all the people coming in.

Obviously, the city's government is freaking out.

So when Charles Hatfield pops into town promising he could fill their reservoir, no problem, most council members are happy to take him up on his offer.

They don't even mind that he's charging $10,000, the equivalent of more than $250,000 today.

But there are some skeptics.

This one council member named Herbert Fay doesn't trust it.

He says Charles is a con man peddling, quote, rank foolishness.

But as usual, Charles is only asking for payment if he succeeds.

It's no risk, all reward.

So the council votes four to one to give him a chance.

Now, Charles is no novice at this point.

He's been in the game for over 10 years, but this is still his contract ever, so the pressure's on.

As San Diego is preparing to ring in the new year of 1916, Charles sets off on a quiet hike through the woods with his brother, who he's recruited as an assistant.

They're heading for a spot 60 miles east of the city right near the Morena Reservoir, the one he promised to fill.

But as he starts building his usual work site, he realizes he's been followed.

A bunch of San Diego residents apparently caught wind of his his plans and hiked up to watch him work.

A crowd watches as he builds his tower and mixes his chemicals.

But this time around, he does something unusual.

He lights some of the pans on fire, which maybe is an accident or possibly a new technique.

Regardless, the smell is horrible.

One witness describes it as, quote, if a Limburger cheese factory has broken loose.

But the stench seems to pay off.

A few days later, on New Year's Eve, San Diego gets its first rainfall in a long while.

Now, Herbert Fay, the anti-Charles Council member, still isn't convinced, but he is in the minority.

The city of San Diego and its papers are already lauding Charles as a hero.

The praise keeps coming for two delightful weeks as the rain keeps falling.

Between January 1st and the 15th, the showers are mostly gentle, the kind of pit or patter on the roof that makes you feel cozy inside.

And even when the rain starts to come down harder, it's doing everything it's supposed to, feeding the crops, filling the reservoir, rejuvenating the city.

But then January 15th arrives and the skies crack open.

The storm turns apocalyptic.

People staring out their windows are reminded of the great flood of 1862, which washed away half the West Coast some 50 years earlier.

The city isn't cut out for this weather.

The San Diego River spills over its banks and spreads until it's a mile wide.

Mountains are collapsing into mudslides.

Telephone lines go down, dams overflow, railroad tracks and roads are obliterated.

Farms and homes are ripped away by flooding.

One panicked resident fleeing his home in a rowboat shouts, let's pay Hatfield 10,000 to quit.

Meanwhile, Charles doesn't see what the big fuss is about.

In the midst of the storm, the rainmaker calls San Diego City Hall with an ominous message.

He says, quote, I just wanted to tell you that it is only sprinkling now.

Within the next few days, I expect to make it really rain.

Horrified, the officials ask if he's joking, and he apparently responds, quote, never more serious in my life.

Just hold your horses and I'll show you a real rain.

For two more weeks, the destruction continues.

On January 27th, another reservoir gives way, sending a 40-foot wall of water crashing into the coastline.

The wave sweeps away everything in its path, trees, livestock, houses, and people.

One guy clings to a small tree as he watches houses and cattle sweep past him.

Some of the animals are alive, but many are already dead.

They look like helpless little toys completely powerless.

Miraculously, this man makes it out alive, but not everyone is so lucky.

More than a dozen people lose their lives in that wave alone.

By the end of January, the skies are finally clear, but the city is in complete shambles.

50 people died in the deluge.

Even those who didn't lose loved ones basically lost everything else.

People are hurt, horrified, and angry.

And they know just who to blame.

They call this Hatfield's flood.

Charles, though, is still out in the woods by the reservoir he filled.

He can't understand why everyone's so upset.

He fulfilled his end of the bargain.

He proved he's the best rainmaker America has ever seen.

And now he's ready for his payment.

Coming up, taking credit for the storm is a double-edged sword for Charles.

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Now back to the story.

In the aftermath of San Diego's January 1916 storm, Charles Hatfield is either truly oblivious to the cold reception that awaits him in the city, or he just doesn't care.

At the end of January, he treks the 60 miles back into town with a big smile on his face and an outstretched hand like, that'll be $10,000, please.

And as you can imagine, things don't go so smoothly.

The city council has no plan to pay him.

The way they see it, if Charles did cause the storm, he's a monster who doesn't deserve a penny.

If he didn't, he's a con artist who still doesn't deserve a penny.

Not to mention, if they did pay him, they're essentially saying they commissioned a natural disaster, which isn't going to look good when they file their $6 million worth of damage suits, which is worth close to $150 million today.

So all those council members who were eager to hire Charles a month ago are now calling the flood an act of God.

And when Charles protests, they send him to a city attorney who essentially tells Charles he has two options.

One, he leaves San Diego empty-handed and never shows his sorry face here again.

Charles could try and fight it in court, but legally his case doesn't hold any water.

Nobody ever signed a contract.

It was a verbal agreement.

Or two, they could sign a contract now.

They'd pay Charles the $10,000 in full, and then Charles would be liable for the city's millions in damages.

What does Charles pick?

Well, he's furious, so he chooses neither.

He's beaten the odds before, so he's willing to try his luck and take the city to court.

And he does.

But the case drags on for a year, and in the end, it amounts to a whole lot of nothing.

Charles had no contract and no way to prove he caused the storm.

Before the case resolves, Charles decides it's best to leave San Diego.

Now, you might think with everything that happened, Charles would find himself unemployed.

But with a bit of distance, the events in San Diego seem a little less grim and a lot more magical.

It even becomes a selling point for Charles.

He refers to the storm as the most potent test I ever made.

He may never collect his 10,000, but he was crowned the king of American rainmakers.

For the next 12 years, Charles works everywhere, from Canada to Cuba to Honduras.

The money is good.

The destinations are exciting.

He's on top of the world and a long way from his dusty days on his dad's ranch.

But even for someone as lucky as Charles, the good times don't last forever.

When the Great Depression arrives in 1929, his business takes a serious hit.

No one can pay him.

Even city governments don't have the cash to throw at something like rain summoning.

And FDR's New Deal leads to the construction of more dams and better water infrastructure across the country, which essentially render his services unnecessary.

Charles Hatfield is never proven to be a fraud, but in the blink of an eye, he's obsolete.

And yet, somehow, his star keeps shining.

In 1956, 81-year-old Charles attends the premiere of The Rainmaker, a film inspired by his life.

It stars Catherine Hepburn and Burt Lancaster two Hollywood heavyweights.

And in the twilight of his life, he's back in the spotlight where he feels at home, where he thinks he belongs.

He dies two years later, taking his secret 23 chemical formula to the grave.

But his legacy lives on in the work of other rainmakers.

Yep, that's right.

The days of attempted weather modification never ended.

In recent years, a technology called cloud seeding uses chemicals like dry ice and silver iodide to encourage clouds to make rain.

The whole process is controversial for many reasons.

The technique doesn't quite prove that controlling weather is possible, but there are real, reputable, trained scientists that are invested in finding out.

And if it is possible, it's also possible that Charles Hatfield's science was as real as he promised.

I mean, if you look at his successes, the results speak for themselves.

Maybe he was way ahead of his time and he invented a technology that scientists are still struggling to recreate.

But there's another more likely explanation, one that most experts agree on.

Charles was a well-educated gambler.

He studied meteorology, he did his research on weather patterns, and he played the odds.

He would travel somewhere dry that was likely to get rain soon and put on a convincing enough show that he could take credit for what Mother Nature would have already done anyway.

Regardless of what you choose to believe, the biggest secret to Charles's success was that he understood something about human nature.

We really like to be in control.

We don't like to be at the mercy of fate.

We want to feel like our lives belong to us.

We want it so much that when we're not in control, we're willing to suspend disbelief and bet against the odds to get it back.

Thanks for listening.

I'll be back next week with another episode.

To hear more stories hosted by me, check out Crime Junkie and all Audio Chuck originals.

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