When the Mississippi River broke its banks in 1927, the resulting flood submerged over 27,000 square miles across ten states, displaced more than 600,000 people, and left countless families—especially farmers—destitute. It was one of the worst natural disasters in American history. Yet President Calvin Coolidge, true to his ideology of minimal government intervention, refused to provide meaningful federal aid to the devastated region. He didn’t even visit the area.
Coolidge was a staunch believer in limited government and fiscal austerity. While that might have played well with the business class in Boston, it proved catastrophic for farmers in Arkansas, Mississippi, and Louisiana. Senator Thaddeus Caraway and others pleaded for federal relief to help the ruined farmland and families, but Coolidge blocked or ignored nearly all attempts. He argued that such aid would set a dangerous precedent and that responsibility for disaster relief belonged to the states and private charities.
To be clear, some aid did arrive, but it was woefully inadequate and largely came from the Red Cross and philanthropic efforts. Coolidge’s inaction not only exacerbated the human suffering but also laid bare the stark contrast in governmental response when compared to urban disasters that received more attention and funding. Rural Americans—particularly Black sharecroppers—were left to fend for themselves in flooded camps with poor sanitation and few resources.
The political fallout was profound. Many historians argue that Coolidge’s cold indifference to the agricultural crisis helped usher in a decade of rural resentment and economic deterioration that contributed to the Great Depression. By turning his back on these Americans in their time of greatest need, Coolidge did not just fail to act—he made a statement. One that said: You’re on your own.
Editorial Note:
Calvin Coolidge was famous for saying, “The business of America is business.” But what happens when the business of survival collides with that slogan? In 1927, hundreds of thousands of Americans needed not business, but compassion. They didn’t get it.
This failure echoes across time. Just as Coolidge abandoned farmers to a deluge, modern leaders have often turned their backs on disaster-stricken Americans while clinging to the illusion of fiscal purity. The ghosts of 1927 whisper through every poorly handled hurricane, ignored drought, and underfunded response today.