PHOTO OF THE DAY: THE TERRIBLE BLIZZARD OF 136 YEARS AGO

The following was posted by Heritage Hall Museum and Archives on its Facebook page today, on the occasion of one of the worst weather disasters in this community’s history.

On this date 136 years ago, Thursday, January 12, 1888, a blast of Arctic air from Canada rapidly roared into the United States. The temperature on the Northern Plains plunged nearly 100 degrees in just 24 hours, dropping to as low as 40 below zero. High winds and heavy snow created blinding conditions.

W.H. Stoddard recalled that day – from personal experience – in his book, “Turner County Pioneer History” published in 1931.

He notes that early January had been “cold and blizzardy” but temperatures began to warm Wednesday, January 11 and light snow began to fall and continued through the night. By Thursday morning, he writes, “a fog settled down over the earth in Turner county… real warm, no perceptible wind.

“Suddenly a distant roar. A cold breath strikes the face; the snow seems to rise and in great handfuls strike you in the face, so sudden it takes your breath; you grasp for breath and it seems as though you had drawn into your lungs a full quart of powdered snow. You turn this way and that and meet the same experience.

“By this time your face is well plastered; it is getting dark as night; you draw your hand across your eyes and look in all directions. The only result is more snow plastered on your face. The wind sweeps you off your feet. In three minutes you have lost all knowledge of direction; You can see nothing, not even space. The fact is you are lost in a blizzard.

“Experiences similar to this, many narrow escapes, heroic rescue, almost some superhuman took place in the afternoon and evening of Thursday, January 12, 1888.

“In a great majority of Turner County homes that night there was little sleep, save for the little folks, who could forget their troubles. The storm coming in the middle of the afternoon caught all the school children, and in many homes one or more other members of the family were away from home. Anxious parents and other members of the family, distracted with grief and anxiety, paced the floor, often going to the door looking out into the darkness, calling the name of some loved one, listening for an answer only to be mocked by the tempest roar.
“In many instances people found shelter and safety… But here and there we find awful grief in a family and the sorrow reaches out to other families who are relatives, and the scene brings tears from the most hardened and rugged.

“In the western part of the county when the storm struck Mrs. Josephine Neff gathered up some wraps and started for the schoolhouse to get her child. She perished but the child came through safely. When the town school in Hurley was dismissed and the children were being rushed to their different residences Lizzie Dwyer aged 18 unnoticed dropped out of the bunch lost your bearings and perished two blocks from the Main Street. One son of John Albright, one of Peter Graber and three sons of John Kaufman were brought in dead.”

The story of John Albrecht, Peter Graber and the three Kaufman brothers, Elias, Henry, and John, whose frozen bodies were found in Marion Township three days after the storm, is among those compiled in “Trailing the Schoolchildren’s Blizzard,” written by Lois Thieszen Preheim, who lives in Kansas with her husband, Ron (a Freeman community native).

In her book, which she described as historical fiction, Preheim notes that rather than an isolated storm, this was “a massive, connected blizzard trail that includes tragic and heroic events. Many accounts of this storm overlook the broader impact of this well-remembered day … Its tempestuous energy brought snow, wind, and frigid cold blasting from Canada through Montana, Dakota Territory, Minnesota, Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, and beyond.”
Each chapter shares family experiences in each of those locales.

Preheim’s book is for sale in our HHM&A Mercantile and we have several copies of Stoddard’s book on sale in our archives. Our museum is open weekday afternoons from noon to 4 (weather permitting) through the month of April. Coincidently, turns out today is one of those days we’re closed because of winter weather.