(This story was originally written and recorded for Retrocast 43, released on July 9, 2026.)
One of the fascinating features of Google Maps is the ability to switch from Map View to Satellite View, giving you a bird’s-eye look at the landscape.
That’s exactly what I did while researching this story.
Using the satellite imagery, I followed Mill Creek, a tributary of Lake Erie, from its source for roughly 16.5 miles (26.5 km). Then, as the creek reaches the city of Erie, Pennsylvania, it suddenly vanishes from sight.
The reason is that Mill Creek is diverted into a concrete tunnel, flowing beneath the city for about 2½ miles (4 km) before emptying into Lake Erie near Presque Isle Bay.
The tunnel was constructed between 1918 and 1923 after a devastating flood struck Erie on August 3, 1915. Although the project successfully controlled the flooding, the tunnel itself is a place few people would ever want to enter. Aside from inspectors, almost no one goes inside. It is extremely dark, has only 17 manhole covers along its entire length, and during heavy rainstorms, the water can rise quickly and become dangerously deep and turbulent.
It was also no place for children to be playing. Yet at around 4:00 p.m. on Wednesday, February 10, 1960, that’s exactly what a group of boys was doing.
Among them was 11-year-old Robert Fisherkowski, who watched as his 9-year-old friend, Virgil Swartwood, waded into the water and headed toward the entrance of the flood and sewage control tunnel. When Robert looked again moments later, Virgil had vanished.
Assuming his friend had simply gone home, Robert left the area. A short time later, he stopped by the Swartwood home at 2109 State Street and told Virgil’s mother about his mysterious disappearance. Alarmed, Mrs. Swartwood and Robert rushed to the tunnel entrance and searched desperately for the missing boy, but there was no sign of him.
At about the same time – this was roughly 30 minutes after Virgil disappeared – boat operator Joseph Borowy heard the faint cries of a child near the tunnel’s outlet into Lake Erie. Looking toward the discharge point, he spotted Virgil clinging to a four-foot-long (1.2 m) tree branch. Borowy immediately ran to the nearby sewage treatment plant, shouting for help.
Without hesitation, 50-year-old plant worker John Grochulski dropped himself from a 15-foot-high (4.6 m) wall into the near-freezing water below. He kept Virgil’s head above the surface for nearly 20 minutes until a small boat arrived and rescued them both. The semi-conscious boy was then rushed to nearby Hamot Hospital.
Grochulski later told a reporter, “I never would have slept peacefully in my life again if the kid had gone under. All I knew was that I better get him out of there.”
From his hospital bed, the third grader explained that he had bent down to pick up a friend’s glove.
“Then I fell down and I could not get up again. I tried to stop myself by hanging onto the sides but I couldn’t stay there.
“A couple of times my head went under. And I tried to hold my breath, but I got some water in my mouth. The rest of the time I hollered all the way.
“I counted to 60 fifteen times. I knew that there were 60 seconds a minute. I figured I had to come out somewhere but I was scared.
“I was scared I would drown or I might fall through a manhole. I passed over some, I tried so hard to stop but I couldn’t.”
Remarkably, Virgil escaped with only bruised and battered hands, injuries he sustained while desperately trying to grip the tunnel walls as the rushing water carried him on a terrifying 2½-mile journey beneath the city.
