American Falls, Idaho, was on the front lines of one such decisive moment in American history in the fall of 1925. It soon became the first town entirely displaced to make way for progress. So the construction of the American Falls Dam necessitated a relocation. The dam was intended to tap into the electrical potential of the Snake River. Some 344 residents, 46 businesses, three hotels, a school and a hospital all moved to the new settlement. This new site is located almost one kilometer to the northwest of their previous site. This monumental feat nevertheless drowned an entire community. It raised fundamental questions about the bigger picture behind these displacements, and more critically, what they mean for indigenous populations.
The American Falls project has real, tangible impacts on the land. It implicates a much larger and all too familiar story of state led displacement and dispossession. The impact on the Shoshone-Bannock people and their Fort Hall Reservation was severe, as the dam’s construction destroyed tribal lands. In the 1950s, the dam impounded a reservoir that drowned most of American Falls. Yet this monumental change was deeply impactful, changing lives and memories from the landscape.
The Relocation Process
The logistics of relocating an entire town were an imposing challenge. Through the night, workers quickly moved bedridden residents up the hill in wheeled carts. They made sure no one was left behind, allowing people to begin again somewhere else. The operation involved moving approximately 60 buildings, which included essential services and businesses that formed the backbone of daily life in American Falls.
“For me, it really is a question of how did people leave a place they loved?” – Dr. Bob Reinhardt, an associate professor of history at Boise State University.
Third, Dr. Reinhardt has a detailed and fascinating examination of the phenomenon of town relocations. Most importantly, he wants us to recognize that these kind of movements are not just about physical displacement, but about emotional and social turbulence. Though the impacts of uprooting from a treasured community still sting for many residents today, decades later, that experience is still fresh for some.
The move also had economic implications. Many of the business owners didn’t know where they’d be living while they relocated. Alongside these practical considerations, residents had the emotional burden of uprooting from all they had ever known. Many others described their experience of being “kicked out of your own town.” Together, their accounts painted a powerful picture of the sorrow rooted in the experience of forced relocation.
Lasting Impact on Indigenous Communities
The removal of the American Falls Dam is key to an important, big-picture story. As a reminder, it offers a reckoning of the displacement suffered by Native American tribes. The Shoshone-Bannock people have lived in the region for thousands of years, energies cost. They suffered an immense blow when their ancestral lands were flooded and became a reservoir. Located between Pocatello, American Falls, and Blackfoot, the Fort Hall Reservation — about 550 square miles — has experienced the effects of these shifts ever since.
Dr. Reinhardt emphasizes that federal government agencies often treated these spaces as “vacant.” Part of this perception was due to the violent expulsion of indigenous peoples. This view erased the deep stories and traditions that were here before any of these projects ever were.
“That’s a big part of the story of the construction of large dams in the American West in the 20th century. It’s part of a bigger story of this longer history of displacement and dispossession,” Dr. Reinhardt explains.
The repercussions of the dam are still being felt today, especially when the reservoir is close to full capacity. This extended drought and increased water levels can greatly affect the land and traditions that the Shoshone-Bannock people cherish. Fishing heritage and sacred Indigenous cultural sites have either been drowned under or irrevocably changed by these toxic ponds.
The Atlas of Drowned Towns
Dr. Reinhardt founded The Atlas of Drowned Towns as a means to document communities that have been buried underwater across the U.S. and beyond. His research started in the American West, a region where large-scale hydroelectric projects have drastically altered both topography and communities.
This research underscores the social histories associated with these neighborhoods, and the Atlas has become an important resource because of it. It aims to highlight “the value of inundated communities and the perspectives of people who call them home.” By mapping these drowned towns, Dr. Reinhardt hopes to create space for connections and recognition of those affected by such displacements.
“To create a space where people can have those kinds of connections, and for their stories to be valued is really cool,” he said.
The project invites people to begin reckoning with their own personal and local histories. It further sheds light on how truly progress may be transformative, but always paid for with blood and treasure.
Reminders of a Submerged Community
Today, you can still see parts of former American Falls above the waterline. One such standout is a 60-meter grain silo, which acts as a tangible, physical testimonial of the area’s rich maritime history. The dam’s construction brought sudden relocation challenges that were impossible to surmount. Today, it is seen as an architectural landmark, conjuring up loving memories for former residents.
“You can go to Google Earth and you can see the shadow of this thing in the water. It’s pretty spooky and fascinating,” Dr. Reinhardt remarked about how technology can reveal hidden histories.
As the years go by, tales of American Falls sink deeper into the collective memory of local residents. Residents still reminisce about their times in beautiful, walkable streets—even after being moved themselves. They struggle with an ambivalence of nostalgia and hurt when they think of their old place.
Karen, a former resident, reflected on her experiences: “Going across the bridge in Bonnie Doon after really dry summers in the 80s and 90s, you can still see the old road outlines below the water.” Such reflections highlight the far-reaching and persistent consequences that such changes have had on the lives of everyday people and communities.
