The Great Smog Begins
Clear skies dawned over London on December 5, 1952. A wintry cold snap had gripped the British capital for weeks, and as Londoners awoke, coal fireplaces were stoked in homes and businesses across the city to take the chill from the early morning air.
As the day progressed, a veil of fog—not unusual in a city famous for its cool, misty weather—began to enshroud Big Ben, St. Paul’s Cathedral, London Bridge and other city landmarks.
Within a few hours, however, the fog began to turn a sickly shade of yellowish brown as it mixed with thousands of tons of soot pumped into the air by London’s factory smokestacks, chimneys and automobiles. Smoky, diesel-fueled buses had recently replaced the city’s electric tram system, adding to the toxic brew.
Nonetheless, Londoners went about their business with typical British reserve, ignoring the foul air as much as possible. But within a day, it became impossible to ignore the unfolding crisis.
London Fog Becomes London Smog
Fog, combined with smoke to produce smog, was nothing new in London, but this particular “pea souper” quickly thickened into a poisonous stew unlike anything the city had ever experienced.
A high-pressure weather system had stalled over southern England and caused a temperature inversion, in which a layer of warm air high above the surface trapped the stagnant, cold air at ground level.
The temperature inversion prevented London’s sulfurous coal smoke from rising, and with nary a breeze to be found, there was no wind to disperse the soot-laden smog. The noxious, 30-mile-wide air mass, teeming with acrid sulfur particles, reeked like rotten eggs—and it was getting worse every day.
The Big Smoke Settles In
The smog was so dense that residents in some sections of the city were unable to see their feet as they walked. For five days, the Great Smog paralyzed London and crippled all transportation, except for the London Underground train system.
Because of poor visibility, boat traffic on the River Thames came to a halt. Flights were grounded and trains cancelled. Even during the middle of the day, drivers turned on their headlights and hanged their heads out car windows to inch ahead through the thick gloom. Many found the effort futile and simply abandoned their cars.
Conductors holding flashlights walked in front of London’s iconic double-decker buses to guide drivers down city streets. Wheezing pedestrians groped their way around the city’s neighborhoods and tried not to slip on the greasy black ooze that coated sidewalks. By the time they returned home, their faces and nostrils blackened by the air, Londoners resembled coal miners.