Next week, The A.V. Club will mark a bevy of 20th anniversaries with our 2004 Week. But today, there is one event that cannot wait. On August 8, 2004, sometime after the hour of 1 p.m. Central Time, the Dave Matthews Band tour bus opened its blackwater container while traversing the Kinzie Street Bridge in Chicago. At the same time as 800 pounds of sewage passed through the metal grates, the tour boat Chicago’s Little Lady passed beneath the bridge, leaving more than 100 people soaked with all manners of bodily fluids and chemicals. Over the years, this singular event has taken on an outsized reputation, landing somewhere between (near) harmless fun and a momentous piece of history in the country's third-largest city. If you’ve spent any amount of time in Chicago in the past 20 years, this is a story you know. When this writer spent 15 months in the city, it was the third piece of information he received, after what Malort is and which improv theater is the best. The story is obviously disgusting, but even the most scatologically squeamish can’t help but admit that it’s a hilarious case of biblically bad luck. And it only helps that the Dave Matthews Band, either one of the best or worst bands of the decade, are characters in it. Now, it remains cult holiday of sorts, a piece of history with perhaps little left to discover, but plenty to remember. Earlier this week, Block Club Chicago published a great retrospective of the event, exploring the fascination with the event over the years. Former Chicago Tribune reporter Brett McNeil was on board during the incident, and rather hilariously likens it to his generation’s Mrs. O’Leary’s cow. Perhaps having the reporter onboard helped solidify the event’s reputation; back in 2004, McNeil published a first-hand account for the Tribune, preserved today in a RideMonkey forum. “People wiped off their glasses, took off their coats, and sat in stunned anger. What could you do?” he writes, later recalling a shirtless man, mid-clean-up, quipping, “I feel like I’m in a bad Ben Stiller movie.” Ultimately, the illegal dumping really wasn’t the fault of the Dave Matthews Band; they’re just a famous name with a reputation that proceeds them. At the time, it was speculated that the band could have been on the hook for up to $70,000 for the dumping, but the blame ultimately fell to their driver, Steven Wohl, who ended up serving 18 months of probation and had to pay $10,000. A small price to pay, perhaps, for a permanent place in the Windy City’s history.
