The Harris Centennial
Harris --The past 100 Years
Blizzards
Page 45-47
Wandering in the Blizzard of 1888 near Harris
Clarence Benson writes of the blizzard of ’88.
He and his parents and sisters at that
time lived on the farm southwest of Harris about three miles. The
weather was nice and warm as the children sang on their way home
from school the afternoon of January 11, 1888, but lowering
clouds made them think they better get a load of hay that night.
Clarence and their hired man, Joe Thies, about 23, who had come
from Germany, went to the stack to get a load of hay. The snow
that was on the ground was melting, and the horses got stuck
before they got away from the stack. The snow started, and in
fifteen minutes time the temperature dropped 45 degrees. Then the
snow began to swirl so thick they could not see anywhere. They
got stuck again about forty rods from the house and the bitter
cold and snow blinded them, so they unhitched the horses and held
on to the lines, thinking the horses would take them home. They
set the scoop and fork in the snow. The shepherd dog was with
them and they told him to go to the house and they thought they
could follow. The dog was a trick dog that carried water to the
field to them. When the horses came back to the spot where the
scoop and fork was left, they knew the horses were lost, too.
They heard their parents call but Joe thought it was from one
direction and Clarence from the other. They went the way Joe
thought, and that was wrong.
The horses eyes had frozen globes over them, they discovered, and
after they knew they were lost, the boys started for the railroad
tracks north, thinking they could follow it. They found a grove,
which was where the Harris cemetery is now. Joe lost an overshoe
and they went back and found it. Joe rode a horse when he got
tired but became exhausted at midnight. Then they left the horses
to die, they thought. Then Clarence did everything he could to
keep Joe moving and from freezing. Joe’s legs were so frozen
he could not walk but a few steps and then fell. When he was so
exhausted he could not get up anymore, Clarence tried to lay
beside him and rub him to keep warm, but he began to get sleepy,
too. Then he wrapped Joe in a blanket and left him alone while he
walked on to keep from freezing.
About daylight he knew enough to start toward home, but from then
on he seemed to be in a daze. He imagined someone offered him a
chair and when he sat, he fell down. Then he would think that his
father needed him and he must not quit. He stopped before George
Thomas’ door and they took him in and learned he had been in
the storm all night. He told them where to find Joe and the
horses. Joe was dead, but they could not bury him for a week
until the snow was cleared away. They had to walk to Sibley to
order a casket. Joe would have been 23 on the day he was buried,
January 19, 1888. Joe was found a mile north of the house, and
the horses were ten rods further on. They were alive and shaking
their heads for feed. They had a three-inch coating of ice on
their bodies formed from the sweat and cold and snow. One horse
had a piece of flesh drop out of its foreleg where it had been
frozen but old Ned lived to be 34 years old, and his hide was
made into a robe which was displayed.
Blizzard of
November 1940 Will Be Long Remembered
by Mrs. Mattie Meyer – 1964
November 11, 1940 will be a day that
brings many memories to those of us who were farming and raising
turkeys. The days preceding that day gave no warning of coming
disaster.
The turkeys were in the bloom and our buyer was to come for them
on the morning of November 11. The flock of 800 birds would
invade the farmyard and use the electrical wires between the
house and the barn for a roost. They would fly up into the trees
as though they knew they should be there.
Sunday, November 10, the flock was very insistent that they
should be in the yard, as though an unseen power had warned them;
but that flock was just too many to live outside the door. At
evening a light fog had arrived and the turkeys were fighting for
a roosting place on the shelters northwest of the grove. The
night was still and sounds carried very well. I recall hearing
the toms scolding one another as they crowded and slipped on the
ridge of the roof.
Monday morning we got up early, as the buyer was coming for the
turks. The snow was blowing. The spring pullets, roosting in the
trees, had smothered as the ice had formed over their eyes and
nostrils, and now lay beneath the trees. The horses came into the
barn from the straw stack coated with snow.
Ben began milking and I started to the field on foot, as the snow
banks had blocked the way with the car. I stopped at the edge of
the grove, as I was not equal to facing that with the clothing
that I had on.
With only our eyes uncovered, Ben and I set out for the turkey
houses. The wind took my breath so I followed behind Ben or
walked backwards. Arriving at the turkey shelters, we found that
many turkeys had flown out away from the flock, had their heads
iced over. Some had smothered and others we broke the ice off and
brought them to the houses.
The birds that managed to get into the houses were piled up under
the roosts among the snow. They were smothering one another as
they sought to improve location.
Ben went to the Davis home for help and Clarence and Haywood came
as well as did Louie Hass. They came to the field with a team and
wagon but the storm had grown steadily worse. Closing up the
houses as best they could was deemed the best thing to do. Even
the horses had to be led, as visibility was nil.
Louie Hass was about all in, as he had fought against the wind to
get here, but he had the wind to his side and back on his walk
home. Clarence and Haywood Davis had to face the wind going home,
their faces covered against the bitter blast. They held hands to
stay together. The snow, wind and bitter cold made this an
experience that these men wish never to repeat.
Clarence and Haywood Davis had to face the wind going home, their
faces covered against the bitter blast. They held hands to stay
together. The snow, wind and bitter cold made this an experience
that these men wish never to repeat.
On the morning of the 12th, the snow had quit and in the bitter
cold, Ben and I began the task of bringing the turkey’s
home. Ben worked in the houses cutting the snow away and taking
the live birds out from among those that had perished. I drove
the team and wagon that carried the clawed, bare and naked-backed
turkeys to the barn. Some were placed in the nursing pen with the
helpless and the hopeless. Others made themselves at home on the
partitions above the stanchions. Many were so clawed and torn
that Ben cut their throats in mercy.
The turkeys that were the least hurt were those that the wind had
wrapped up in a blanket of snow as it whirled about the shelters.
One big tom had been blown to the west side of the grove and
spent a week in the snow bank. As the snow melted, he made his
presence known and was helped out. He had lost most of his flesh,
but the next spring, he joined the dog and David (four years old)
and called on Bobby Davis and the neighborhood in general. Mrs.
Louis Hass was a favorite hostess of the trio.
The flock lived among the farm animals and just outside the door
for about a month. As the scabs healed they feathered out anew
and regained their weight as the cold weather had increased their
appetites.
Turkey losses had been heavy throughout the area due to the
storm. The price increased about four to five cents a pound.
Worthington Creamery held the mortgage and the insurance on them.
They sent their trucks for them on November 14, but we had worked
so hard getting them out of the field and into the yard at home,
that we refused to turn them in for the price that the insurance
company would pay us. We were paid the insurance rate for those
that the rendering company had picked up, and since the price
increased 41% over the price before the storm, our loss in
dollars was not so great.
Throughout those two busy days working so hard to save the flock,
we had completely forgotten that we had any insurance to care for
our losses. Perhaps this was to our advantage as we were among
the few who Worthington Creamery balanced their books that year.
Another advantage that we still enjoy, as we did then; neighbors
who have a ready hand for those who need help. They work at the
task as though it were a joy to be of aid.
The storm arrived as a sudden surprise and many people did not
realize the intensity of it. Cattle refused to face the storm in
order to reach the shelter of the farmyard and perished in the
bitter blizzard. Others found that their cattle had frozen to
death outside of the barn door. Many sheep huddled together and
losses were high. Hogs, also piled up, as the shelters were not
ready for winter to drop out of the sky.
Men on the farms today listen to weather bulletins and are more
aware of the weather elsewhere, due to the coverage by the
weathermen on the local radio stations.
Many storms have been forecast, but never arrived.
After the November 11 storm, due to storm warnings, we prepared
for the November 7 storm about two years later. This storm again
took a heavy toll in turkeys, but our loss was 13 out of a flock
of perhaps 2,000.
Lives and livestock losses have been cut as the radio stations
warm of coming storms. One of the many blessings of our modern
times.
“Arctic
Hurricane” Strikes January 10, 1975
-by Don and Marlene Loring
The winter of 1974-75 was above average,
until January 10th, when, on Friday morning, a blizzard hit that
will remain on record, along with the blizzard dates of 1873,
1888, 1937, 1940 and 1969. It was the same story everywhere
– rock hard drifts as deep as 15-20 feet, marooned
travelers, death from exposure, heroic rescue efforts and
extensive property damage.
The storm started with a low pressure out in the Colorado
Rockies. For two days it gathered strength and then moved east
through Kansas, Oklahoma, the Dakotas, then Minnesota and Iowa.
It started to snow on Friday morning about 9:00 am. By noon
travel was difficult. By 2:00 p.m. the storm was designated a
blizzard, by nightfall, a severe blizzard. The barometer dropped
to record lows. In Worthington, the reading was well into the
hurricane range of more temperate zones. Friday evening the winds
gusted to 70 M.P.H. from the northwest ranging to 80 M.P.H. by
Saturday at 8:00 am.
REMEMBER??? Even the strongest houses literally trembled, windows
bowed, and pictures on the walls shaking.
All day Saturday the storm raged on. It was down to –8
degrees on Saturday night. Finally, early Sunday morning, the
winds began to subside and the snowfall had diminished to
flurries.
People started to tunnel out. Many found doors blocked by drifts
and had to climb out windows. There was no way of measuring how
much snow fell, but it was estimated 12-15 inches fell over
northwest Iowa.
Emma Watters, news correspondent, gave the following report from
Harris:
School was let out at 10:00 a.m. on Friday.
Electricity went out about 8:10 Friday night. In some parts of
town it came on about 10:20 a.m. on Sunday, and others at 4:00
p.m. on Sunday.
Snow was piled six feet high in front of the businesses downtown.
Businesses were closed on Saturday, Sunday and some even longer.
Thompson’s Grocery had a broken water pipe and lost a
considerable amount of ice cream. Forbes Locker had a loss of
about 300 in fresh meat. Sroufe’s Cafe had a broken water
pipe and was closed until Tuesday or Wednesday. The Co-op Station
had frozen water pipes and water meter and all the pop on hand.
Many homes had broken water pipes and radiators.
People who had no heat were helped to homes where some sort of
heat and way of cooking was available. Among those were Mrs.
Lester Heppler (taken by stretcher), and Mrs. Elmer Stahly. Mrs.
Lucy Welch, Mr. and Mrs. John Saunders, and Mr. and Mrs. Clarence
Wimmer, all from the Golden Years Apartments to the Wayne
Saunders home; Mrs. Caroline Baumgarten to the Clarence Knudson
home; Mrs. Elizabeth Pauling to the Douglas Forbes home; Mrs.
Louis Snyder, Mrs. M. C. Dillehay and Mrs. Fred Berman to the
home of Mrs. A. C. Wilson; Mrs. Carl Mitchell and children to the
home of Mrs. John Graham; Mrs. August Rubsam to the home of
George Jellema; Mrs. Jake Miller (by stretcher), to the DeWitt
Forbes home; Lou Engelson, Dean and Heidi to the Robert Senn
home; Rick, Lisa and Lori to the Don Loring home; Mr. and Mrs.
Garrold Bootsma and six children and Mr. and Mrs. Gerry Bosma and
four children to the Henry Vellema home on Sunday and overnight
at the Dick Meyer and Bob Hoekstra homes. They were transported
by snowmobile.
Some homes were kept warm by using ovens of gas kitchen ranges,
fireplaces, and one or two had a gas heated trailer house.
Several survived by putting on stocking caps, sweaters, socks and
scarves and going to bed with all the blankets and covers
available – and did you ever try heating soup over a
candle?? It takes forever!
Among those helping to get people to heated homes and shoveling
snow, etc., were Scott Robertson, Wayne Saunders, Larry Thompson,
Don Loring, Alan, Gale and Chris Knudson, Bary Forbes, Jesse
Duis, Doug Forbes, Casey Van Maasdam, Floyd and Norma Boyer,
George Jellema, Elmer and Todd Schwarting, Kenny and Paul
Vellema, Pat Murphy, Clarence Knudson and Clarence Wimmer.
Henry Vellema had 10-12 dead cows. It was reported that 38 of Ron
Peterson’s cattle were gone, but were later found in a far
corner of his farm and brought to safety by Doug and Barry Forbes
and Dale Bramley, using snowmobiles. A roof caved in on some
cattle at the Amos Meyer farm – possibly three or more were
killed.
The heaviest loss of cattle in our area was 200-300 dead near
Lake Park and owned by Robert Ahrenstorff.