From Texas on the Potomac:
Today in Texas History: Massive blizzard hits panhandle
On this date in 1971, a massive blizzard that left 6 to 26 inches of snow hit the Texas Panhandle. The blizzard lasted until February 22.
Three people were killed in the storm, which also caused the disappearance of 15,000 cattle in Amarillo. Property losses and damages totaled $3.1 million.
The blizzard had winds of up to 60 miles per hour and left snow drifts as tall as 12 feet. The paralyzing storm was the worst of its kind since a blizzard that lasted from March 22-25, 1957.
The same storm hit western Oklahoma hard. The blizzard produced the state's record snowfall total of 36 inches in the small town of Buffalo.
I remember this weather event very well. I was a sophomore in h.s. and had that summer bought 18 sows and two boars (pigs), plus had mine and my sister's show pigs to look after. When the storm blew in I was running low on feed and the highways were snowed under so I couldn't get to town to purchase more. The pens were just behind our house and the drifts got so deep, I eventually couldn't even make it out to check on the hogs.
The storm finally blew itself out, and I made my way out to the pens to see if any of the animals had survived. Among my herd was one mean Duroc sow that I had had to separate from the rest by putting her in our fenced garden spot. Before the storm hit, I had made her a shelter from some hay bales, but the snow had collapsed the make-shift shelter and the pig was nowhere to be seen. I figured she had died in the snow and I'd find her when the snow melted.
I was climbing over the garden fence to get to the pens and stepped on a mound of snow when the "mound" squealed and moved under my feet. It was the mean sow and she didn't like being disturbed from her warm snow cave!
Taking heart, I checked on the other animals, but couldn't see or hear them from where they were under the snow that had drifted to a depth of at least ten feet over their pens. I struggled back through the snow and got a shovel and my sister came with me to help dig them out. As I said, the snow was very deep and I dug down as far as I could, then held my sister by her ankles as she dug the rest of the way down to the shelter.
I knew exactly when my sister broke through the last foot of snow because a miasma of horrid, foul corruption - several day's worth of pig manure - came wafting up through the hole we had dug. Screaming at me to pull her out, my sister got the brunt of the smell.
Long story short, all the pigs had survived, but my sister's show animal had frostbitten ears and most of both ears on the pig had to be cut off. It made the hog look funny, but my sister's pig still managed to win grand champion at the county livestock show a month later.
There was still the matter of food for the animals: my dad suggested I take buckets and go over to a seed wheat grainery a quarter mile away and "borrow" some of the farmer's seed. I trudged through waist-deep snow, making several trips until I simply couldn't make another trip. We soaked the wheat in a 55 gallon drum in our heated garage and after a day, it was soft enough for the pigs to eat. They loved it.
After the highways were cleared and I could get to town to get food for the animals, I didn't have to feed them the grain. There was a few gallons of wheat left in the barrel and it had soured into a stinking mess and my pop insisted I get it out of the garage. Instead of simply discarding it, Dad told me I should feed it to the pigs.
Again, not to ramble on with this boring story, the hogs got drunk off the fermented grain and I watched and laughed as they squealed and spun around in circles. The next day they all looked miserable and I suppose they had hangovers!
Today in Texas History: Massive blizzard hits panhandle
On this date in 1971, a massive blizzard that left 6 to 26 inches of snow hit the Texas Panhandle. The blizzard lasted until February 22.
Three people were killed in the storm, which also caused the disappearance of 15,000 cattle in Amarillo. Property losses and damages totaled $3.1 million.
The blizzard had winds of up to 60 miles per hour and left snow drifts as tall as 12 feet. The paralyzing storm was the worst of its kind since a blizzard that lasted from March 22-25, 1957.
The same storm hit western Oklahoma hard. The blizzard produced the state's record snowfall total of 36 inches in the small town of Buffalo.
I remember this weather event very well. I was a sophomore in h.s. and had that summer bought 18 sows and two boars (pigs), plus had mine and my sister's show pigs to look after. When the storm blew in I was running low on feed and the highways were snowed under so I couldn't get to town to purchase more. The pens were just behind our house and the drifts got so deep, I eventually couldn't even make it out to check on the hogs.
The storm finally blew itself out, and I made my way out to the pens to see if any of the animals had survived. Among my herd was one mean Duroc sow that I had had to separate from the rest by putting her in our fenced garden spot. Before the storm hit, I had made her a shelter from some hay bales, but the snow had collapsed the make-shift shelter and the pig was nowhere to be seen. I figured she had died in the snow and I'd find her when the snow melted.
I was climbing over the garden fence to get to the pens and stepped on a mound of snow when the "mound" squealed and moved under my feet. It was the mean sow and she didn't like being disturbed from her warm snow cave!
Taking heart, I checked on the other animals, but couldn't see or hear them from where they were under the snow that had drifted to a depth of at least ten feet over their pens. I struggled back through the snow and got a shovel and my sister came with me to help dig them out. As I said, the snow was very deep and I dug down as far as I could, then held my sister by her ankles as she dug the rest of the way down to the shelter.
I knew exactly when my sister broke through the last foot of snow because a miasma of horrid, foul corruption - several day's worth of pig manure - came wafting up through the hole we had dug. Screaming at me to pull her out, my sister got the brunt of the smell.
Long story short, all the pigs had survived, but my sister's show animal had frostbitten ears and most of both ears on the pig had to be cut off. It made the hog look funny, but my sister's pig still managed to win grand champion at the county livestock show a month later.
There was still the matter of food for the animals: my dad suggested I take buckets and go over to a seed wheat grainery a quarter mile away and "borrow" some of the farmer's seed. I trudged through waist-deep snow, making several trips until I simply couldn't make another trip. We soaked the wheat in a 55 gallon drum in our heated garage and after a day, it was soft enough for the pigs to eat. They loved it.
After the highways were cleared and I could get to town to get food for the animals, I didn't have to feed them the grain. There was a few gallons of wheat left in the barrel and it had soured into a stinking mess and my pop insisted I get it out of the garage. Instead of simply discarding it, Dad told me I should feed it to the pigs.
Again, not to ramble on with this boring story, the hogs got drunk off the fermented grain and I watched and laughed as they squealed and spun around in circles. The next day they all looked miserable and I suppose they had hangovers!
2 comments:
I liked reading this.
Thanks, Beary. This current blizzard is bad, but they're calling it "historic". It's not as bad at that one or another a couple of years later. Outside of those two within the space of a few years, we usually have a significant blizzard every seven years or so.
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