Splashes of Life

In the winter of 1949, the Midwestern part of the United States experienced an extremely severe winter. There were blizzards for days and the temperatures dropped to way below minus zero. During this period of time, I lived in northwest Nebraska . The countryside here has few trees and consists primarily of acres and acres of rolling hills. In the summer time, if you gazed out across these rolling hills, you would more then likely see hills of corn fields and plentiful heads of cattle grazing.

It was during this particular hard winter of ’49, when many cattle ranchers lost their cattle because of low temperatures and, high freezing winds, and snows. Military planes were brought in to drop hay to keep the cattle from starving to death. The planes would fly over the fields, and pastures, and drop hay bails near as many cattle as they could. Montana, North and South Dakota, Minnesota, Nebraska, and other States needed help from this severe storm. Some of the ranchers lost all their cattle, while others were lucky enough to receive the flown in hay-supply, just in time to save their herds.

Most of the ranchers sent their school age children, in the winter months, to live with families who lived in town. The children usually stayed on for around three months to attend the town schools. We took care of three of these country children in that winter of ’49. Behind the town’s café, which we owned and operated, was our house.

One morning, I looked out the large front café window and saw how hard the wind was blowing and how much snow had accumulated. I never saw snow pile up so fast. In some places the snowdrifts had piled up more than fifteen feet high. The snow was coming down at an angle and so thick you could hardly see you’re hand in front of you.

It was just before dark, when my husband and I heard, not far off, the roaring engines of cars stuck, it seemed in snowdrifts, trying to get out. My husband hurried to put on his winter clothes. When he left the house he looked like a mummy with only his eyes and mouth exposed. The snowfall had slowed down until visibility was much better now. I was thankful. At least my husband could see where he was going and wouldn’t wonder around lost. As many times reports of people lost and frozen to death had been in the news of late.

This particular day, the temperature had dropped to 34 degrees below zero and the wind was blowing forty-miles an hour. It doesn’t take long to freeze to death in this kind of weather, even with visibility being better. So I prayed, that the people, and my husband, would be able to get back to our warm little house which was connected to the café we owned.

My husband found three cars full of people. They had tried to plow their way through snowdrifts several feet high and now all vehicles were stuck. These people were from northern Minnesota and were traveling to the next town to attend the funeral of a relative, when they were hit by the storm and plowed into snowdrifts. One of their cars had developed a water hose break which in turn immediately froze it up. The rest of the cars were hopelessly stuck in the snowdrifts. They knew they were stranded, and in danger of freezing to death. They were relieved when they saw my mummy-looking husband, who appeared out of no where. We gladly opened our doors to them.

Our three children, and the three country children we were taking care of, my husband, myself, and the twelve adults from the three cars which we had just taken in from the blizzard, were all now crowded in our little house. There were twenty people in all. Two things were in order. One to feed them and two, to find places for them to sleep. There were not enough blankets for everyone, so my husband made a roaring hot fire to keep us all warm. Some of them slept on the floor, while others curled up in chairs to sleep.

In the winter, when there was a big blizzard, usually the phone and electricity would be out of order. Most people in this little town, in those days, didn’t have inside toilets. When the weather was severe, everyone had to use, what is called a bed chamber. At this time, I had an extra bed chamber because my grandmother had given me one. It is a large pot with a lid and it is used just the same as you would a toilet. When it is full, it is dumped in the outhouse after the storm is over.

To get water for bathing, cooking, and drinking, the men went outside and hard packed snow down to the rim, into a big round tub. The kind used to take baths in. Then, two men would heave it on top of the wood stove to heat for water. Because we had so many people in our home during the blizzard of ’49, the men would have to fill the tub often.

On the fourth day, our food supply had almost come to an end. All of which remained in the cupboards were, flour, salt, and baking powder. The severe winter had caused the chickens to stop laying, and my canning goods had disappeared altogether. Therefore, it was not unreasonable when three of our men, decided to go hunting as soon as there was a break in the blizzard. They knew their best bet would be ring-necked pheasants, as the country had an abundance of them. They also knew they needed to bring back lots of them to feed twenty people.

So it was the next day, the sun appeared bright and early, chasing away all other clouds, and our men took off in their wintery cloths and warm boots. There was a nearby corn field with bushes in places where the snow had blown away. It was where they needed to go first, since pheasants are lovers of cornfields. Soon, the men were carting in their arms, nine chocks they’d shot. They did this all within two hours. They told us how they did this. They would walk along the fence line and scare the pheasants up, while the others would aim and shoot.

When the men came home half-frozen, some of the women cleaned and cut up the pheasants as fast as they could. Then, they put them in the hot cookstove, while still other women made bread dough to bake. The aroma of baked pheasant, filled the air, and soon we were smacking our lips with its delicious taste. The storm raged through the night but in the morning the sun came out again and our hunters went out again and brought back eighteen fat pheasants to cook. The pheasant-hunt happened everyday in which the weather would allow it.

After three more days of this dreadful storm, our phones were repaired. Our phones were the crank-kind back then with at least four or five on the party line. When the phone rang all the people on that party line rushed to the phone to listen in. It truly was a blessing in those times when there was one call, and nearly half the people in the town knew how everyone else was getting along.

The happy day came when the sun stayed out all day and it was so bright, it hurt your eyes. That same morning, the people from Minnesota left in their cars, following the snowplow which passed by our café. They followed it all the way to the next town. The days cleared up after that, and the winds subsided, and life became normal in our part of the country. And soon, as far as you’re eye could see, there were cornfields waving in the summer breeze and cattle grazing on a thousand hills.