Jerauld County, SD History .....Chap 21-24; Great Blizzard 
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Chapter 21. 
THE GREAT BLIZZARD.

   The winter of 1887—88 was one of unusual severity. The storms began in 
November, 1887, and each was more terrific than any that had been experienced by 
the settlers since the storm of 1879, when Williams, the mail carrier, was so 
nearly frozen to death on Elm Creek. The weather increased in severity as the 
winter advanced, the snow getting deeper and the cold becoming more intense. The 
9th of January, 1888, was very cold with a light south wind. The 10th was 
slightly warmer, but with a stronger south wind. On the 11th the wind was 
blowing a gale still from the south and the snow was drifting badly. On the 
morning of Thursday, the 12th of January, the wind had fallen and become quite 
warm. The snow was melting a little. Great banks of fog fifteen to twenty miles 
wide rested across the prairies from the vicinity of the Black Hills eastward 
into Minnesota. Between these banks of fog were stretches of country from thirty 
to forty miles in width where the sun shone brightly. One of these fog banks ran 
east and west along the C. & N. W. Ry., through the central part of Beadle, Hand 
and Hyde counties. Over all of Jerauld county the morning was warm and bright.

   Farmers took advantage of the pleasant weather to go to town or to go to 
fetch hay from the prairie. All felt a relief from the rigorous wintry weather 
that had preceded. In Jerauld county at that time were 1025 children of school 
age. Owing to the balmy condition of the air, probably a greater percentage of 
those children went to school that day than on any previous day for weeks.

   T. L. White, who lived at the hills in Chery township, was engaged as teacher 
in what was then known as the Kinney school, which stood on the southwest corner 
of section 8. On the morning of the 12th of January he went to the school house 
as usual, but stopped when he arrived at the top of the range of hills and for 
several minutes stood looking off over the Jim River valley, enjoying a scene 
and a morning that were simply glorious. Low down on the northern and southern 
horizons were dense, black cloud banks, while all about him and away over the 
white plain at his feet, were the busy farm homes all bathed in the warm 
sunlight and fanned by the warm southern breeze. He went on to the school house 
and kindled the fire. The children came in one, two, or three, at a time until 
nearly the whole school was present. It was too pleasant to stay in doors and at 
the forenoon recess all were out running, shouting and playing games.

   As the school bell rang some of the children remarked that "the clouds up 
north are coming." Mr. Wihte looked from the window just in time to see a 
whirling mass come rolling down upon the school house. A cold wave had been 
driven by a furious wind into the most northern of the fog banks, freezing it 
into particles fine as sifted flour. This had been driven at the rate of sixty 
miles an hour down upon the next bank where the same thing occurred. So one 
after another those great wind rows of fog were picked up and hurled southward. 
The mass was blinding, suffocating, freezing. The coal house of the Kinney 
school was but a few feet from the school building, but yet it was with great 
difficulty that the teacher and larger pupils succeeded in getting enough fuel 
to keep the room warm. All day and all night the school children stayed with Mr. 
Wihte in the school house.

   As the storm rushed south and east, picking up the fog banks, one after 
another, it became more and more stifling and fatal to people or animals caught 
by it. The death rate shows a steady increase as the volume of wind, cold and 
snow swept on. In Spink county three were frozen; in Hand 6; in Jerauld 5: in 
Bon Homme 19; in Lincoln 20; in Turner 23, while in Iowa, but few escaped 
without serious injury who were caught by the storm where there were no fences 
to guide them. The great blizzard spread over the entire Mississippi Valley and 
at nearly the same time struck the coast all the way from Galveston, Texas, to 
Boston, Mass.

   But the foregoing is sufficient to show the nature and extent of the storm. 
We have to do only with Jerauld county.


Chapter 22.

   Pleasant Hill school house, at the time of the great blizzard, was located on 
the north line of section 27 in Logan township, near the cemetery and close to 
where it now stands. The school house was small and the nineteen pupils were 
crowded together—three to each desk. The popularity of Mr. John Wicks as a 
teacher drew to this school nearly half of the school children of the township. 
Among those who went to his school, and attended on the 12th day of January, 
1888, were:

   Ernest Bailey, Edith Bailey, Guy Frick, Harry K. Frick, Will Heineman, August 
Heineman, Hattie Krumwied, Charles Krumwied, Minnie Meyers, Henry Meyers, Herman 
Meyers, John Meyers, Lizzie Pflaum, Andrew Pflaum, Minnie Walters, Henry 
Walters, Fred Kappleman, August Kappleman, Minnie Kappleman. and Lena Kappleman.

   The residence of August Kappleman. one of the patrons of the school, stood 
about 150 yards from the school house.

   The story of this school is best told in the language of the teacher, John F. 
Wicks, who, a few days after the storm wrote a full account of it to his friend, 
Mr. Frank D. Scott, at Mt. Zion, Ill. The letter was published at the time in 
one of the local papers of ______ county, Ill.

   "Now for the story, 'My First Experience in a Blizzard." Date, January 12th, 
1888.

   The day preceding it snowed and drifted all day, wind in the south. Thursday 
morning there was a double ring visible around the sun, a light wind from the 
south, a dull, obscure, hazy atmosphere, with the temperature about freezing. 
The children all reached school earlier than usual on account of a storm coming 
from the northwest, working up against the wind. After school called I did not 
notice the storm until it struck the house. The wind suddenly shifted to the 
northwest and in an instant we were in a fierce, blinding storm of snow and 
sleet. Ten feet, was beyond the limit of vision unless you looked the way the 
wind was blowing. The temperature fell rapidly, the wind blew the snow under the 
door, up from the floor, in the windows and even from above, so that with 
constant and careful attention the room was kept barely comfortable. Noon came, 
no abatement. Very few ventured out of the house. Spent all noon in getting in 
coal and shoveling snow from the coal house which was nearly full of snow. 
Recess—gale increased if anything. Night came—no stop whatever in the storm, and 
we came to the conclusion to stay in the school house all night. I asked the 
boys to help 'do chores,' bring in coal 'enough to last all night, while I went 
to a neighbor's house (Kappleman's, 150 yards away) and see what arrangements 
could be made, leaving orders for no one to leave the house till I came back. 
Started for the neighbor's (side wind) which I reached without difficulty, 
obtained wraps for the children, then returned. Travelled by guess, for seeing 
was out of the question; the wind was no guide—as shifting and deceitful as the 
Will-o-the-wisp. My scheme was to get the girls to the neighbor's, and the boys 
and I would bunk in the school house. Told the boys (12) to get more coal in so 
not to go out in the night, and be sure not to try to leave the house, while I 
took the girls to the neighbor's. Nine girls and one big boy (19 years old) 
joined hand-in-hand, were to follow me, thus leaving me free to lead the way, 
the big boy behind.

   Half way over I turned to see if all were coming and found the line broken 
and children scattered. Stopped, got all together and try to keep together, but 
by turning lost my bearing. (Put yourself in my place). Placed the wraps over 
them and told them not to move until we knew which way to go. In a few moments I 
found the big rocks. (130 feet due east of the house) and moved the girls there 
and bunched them again. They were crying with the cold then and the big boy said 
he was freezing. The snow and sleet would cut our faces so we would almost 
smother and not see a particle; the wind would whirl every way, yet we all knew 
we were less than 150 feet from the house. But which way was west. Horror or 
horrors! I placed the boy as far from the girls as he could see and I went as 
much farther from him. This was done several times in different directions and 
at last I found the cuttings nearer the house: got down on my hands and knees, 
found a row and followed that until I knew I was near, or ought to be near, the 
house; pulled the ice from my face and beheld the house not more than twenty 
feet from where I stood. I lost no time in getting the children in, who were all 
crying piteously with the cold.

   We were out about fifteen minutes, but nearly all were frosted, several 
pretty badly, so much so that fingers, faces and feet were blistered. The 
teacher undid the wraps, put frozen limbs in water and did all he could before 
he knew he was 'touched.'

   The lady spread bread and butter for the boys, and we started back. While 
these doings were going on the sun had gone down, the boy was afraid to go, and 
the best policy being not to risk chances again of a night on the prairie, with 
the snow for a winding sheet, if we went back. Nobody cared for supper; all went 
to bed to keep warm; 14 persons in a 14x20 house; sleep was out of the question. 
Between 12 and 1 A. M. the wind lulled for a few moments. I arose, dressed and 
started for the school house, which I reached without mishap. All were safe 
around the fire where we stayed till broad daylight. The thermometer registered 
30 degrees below zero, with a stiff wind blowing from the north west. A truly 
happy boy, thinking what was and what might have been. I thank the Father of all 
Mercies for care and guidance. My mitten had been wet while shoveling snow and 
getting in coal, so when I first pulled it off became as a board, at least I 
could not get my hand in it. That hand, the right, was frozen badly, blisters on 
my wrist as large as a dollar; face 'touched' a little, hand is sore yet, hardly 
use it with any comfort and everything hits it. Saturday I turned out to help 
hunt for the dead, was gone all day. Mr. Byers (C. H. will remember him) was 
found four miles from home frozen stiff.
                                                   John F. Wicks."

   The experience of Miss May Hunt and her pupils of the Knieriem school in 
Harmony township was still more terrible and would have been a heart rending 
affair but for the fortitude and heroism of one of the scholars, Fred C. Weeks. 
I am able to give two views of the storm in that school district—one from the 
parents at home anxious for the safety of their children, who for aught they 
knew were lost in the storm, and the other that of the school huddled in a 
little pile of flax straw for twelve hours, while the terrible fury of the storm 
raged about them. A letter by Rev. S. F. Huntley, still a resident of Harmony 
township; written a few years after the storm to a friend in New York, is before 
me and from it I copy the following:

   "The climate is somewhat variable and it is not always possible to tell what 
is coming next; pleasant weather is the rule but storms are not unknown. On the 
12th of January, 1888, a blizzard surprised us; we had been calling every storm 
a blizzard, but then decided that we had never had a blizzard before .and never 
wanted one again. The morning was warm, thawing, and the wind was in the south. 
It wheeled suddenly to the northwest and rolled over the country a wave of 
frozen mist or fine snow, like flour, so dense that one could not see four feet. 
In fact it so filled the eyes that one could not see at all. It penetrated the 
ears, nose, and mouth, and clothes, every crevice in every building, knothole, 
keyhole, nail hole, and crack that the air would go through, and there seemed to 
be a strong draft inward through every crevice. Our three children were at 
school, and only the baby, four years old, at home with us. The storm struck us 
at about 10 A. M., and raged till the next morning about 4 o'clock. When night 
came wife was very uneasy and depressed—wondering if I could not go for the 
children, but it was impossible; I scarcely made the house at less than 40 rods 
away when the storm struck, and the children were a mile away. So I comforted 
her with the assurance that the teacher would stay with all the scholars at the 
school house, and if they should undertake to reach her boarding place, some 15 
or 20 rods away, they could probably make it. We commended the precious ones to 
God and waited. So confident was I that the children were all right that next 
morning I did the chores the first thing; they were left undone the night 
before, as it was impossible to do them. The weather had grown rapidly colder; 
from thawing when the storm started till now the mercury stood 30 degrees below 
zero, and a stiff northwest wind, but the sun shone blight and clear. I was 
warming my feet at the stove expecting then to go after the children, when the 
door was opened and in rushed a neighbor without rapping, who exclaimed 
excitedly: "You better be seeing after your children; they stayed in a straw-
stack last night." I would not have been more astonished if I had been 
assaulted. "Are they alive?" I demanded. "I don't know, I didn't hear any 
particular." "How do you know that they were in a straw stack?" "Mr. Knieriem 
was over to Mr. Dingle's and told us." "What did Mr. Knieriem want? Did he come 
over to tell you?" "No, he came after same beef's gall." "Were his children in 
the stack?" "Yes, the teacher and all the scholars." "Are any of them alive?" "I 
don't know; I didn't hear any of the particulars." "Why didn't you find out if 
they were alive?" "As soon as he told us I put on my coat and came right over to 
let you know." Wife was almost frantic with anxiety and suspense. I could only 
comfort her with this hope—they cannot be all dead or Mr. Knieriem would have no 
use for beef's gall. It did not take long for Mr. Bartie and me to get there 
with my fleetest horse—he took care of the animal and I went in. They were all 
alive, but very much the worse for their contact with a blizzard. All were 
frozen more or less but only one, Addie Knieriem, suffered permanent injury; she 
lost one foot and the toes of the other. Our children escaped most easily. Mary 
lost the cuticle from the feet to her knees. Mabelle the same and the skin from 
one heel. They undertook to go from the school house to Mr. Hinners, a distance 
of 15 or 20 rods, where the teacher boarded, but missed the house and ran upon a 
pile of flax straw—a couple of loads he had hauled up for fuel as near to the 
door as he thought safe, perhaps 4 or 5 rods. Unable to find the house or to 
make the inmates hear they dug into the stack and stayed till morning. The 
oldest boy, a young man 18 years old, as soon as the storm subsided enough so 
that he could see the house hobbled to the door with feet and hands frozen and 
aroused Mr. Hinners who came out and helped them in. The teacher had her feet 
badly frozen, but had been keeping up the spirits of her pupils bravely during 
the night and keeping them awake. Now the reaction came on, and when I came in 
she cried and all the scholars with her. The catastrophe, the feeling of 
responsibility, and the fear of being blamed were too much for her and she gave 
way. She was a member of my church, as were also the parents of Addie Knieriem. 
Wife wanted to go back east as soon as possible—the first discontent I had heard 
from her since we settled here; but a little later, a still more destructive 
blizzard in New England and New York reconciled her again. Five persons lost 
their lives in that storm in our county: and a large number of horses, hogs, 
cattle and sheep, I never learned how many. I lost one heifer; she could not 
make her way to the barn, 40 rods, although the rest got in safely. I was out 
watering them and had a task to reach the house. There were many narrow escapes 
and it seems a wonder that only five perished. A genuine blizzard is attended 
with electricity. A person would receive a shock from the stove during that 
storm. A. high wind usually prevails."

   The Knieriem school house was located at the southeast corner of section 33 
in Harmony township, on what was then known as the Clapham land. It was a frame 
building 12x16, about which a sod wall had been built. The site where the school 
house stood is still plainly discernable as is also that of the Hinner's house, 
which stood about 140 yards west of it but on the south side of the section line 
on the northeast corner of section 5 in Pleasant township. Not to exceed thirty 
yards west of the Hinner's house was about two tons of flax straw, placed there 
by Mr. Hinners for use as fuel. Between the school house and the Hinners 
residence was a gully about five feet deep, with steep banks, that extended from 
the hills on the north to the valley south of the section line. Across this 
gully a small bridge or culvert had been constructed and a well defined path led 
from the school house to the Hinner place. A few rows of small trees had been 
planted between the Hinner's house and the section line.

   Mr. George Knieriem lived a mile west of the school house, Mr. Dingle 80 rods 
east of it and Mr. Huntley three fourths of a mile east of Dingle's. Mr. Frank 
Weeks' residence was then about a mile northeast of the school house.

   The teacher in the Knieriem school house at the time of the great blizzard 
was Miss May Hunt, a sister of Mrs. J. H. Vessey of Wessington Springs. The 
pupils were Fred and Charles Weeks, Mary, Ernest and Mabelle Huntley, and Frank 
and Addie Knieriem.

   On the morning of the 12th of January, 1888, all the pupils' arrived at the 
school house early and amused themselves coasting down the steep hills until the 
school bell rang. A short time after the children were called into the school 
room to their lessons the hills and valleys were enveloped in the frightful 
storm.

   All day the wind continued to shake the little shanty and its sod walls. 
Through every nail hole and crack it drove the snow, fine as flour, siftirg it 
onto the floor, seats and desks. The children's clothing and books were powdered 
white and the stove gave off a constant hissing sound as the moisture fell upon 
it. The school work continued until the hour for dismissal, though but little 
could be done because of the terrible din of the storm howling and shrieking 
without.

   By four o'clock in the afternoon the fuel supply was exhausted and the 
teacher determined to take the pupils to the Hinner's house. Twice Fred Weeks 
made the trip to the bridge across the gully and returned, just to see if it was 
possible to go through the blinding storm. About half past four the whole school 
was ready to make the effort. Joining hands, with Fred Weeks in the lead they 
started. Nothing could be seen and even breathing was difficult. They soon lost 
the path to the bridge and plunged into the little ravine a few feet south of 
the line. Here the teacher's veil became disarranged and an effort was made to 
replace it. Then all started again, climbing the west bank of the gully as best 
they could, Addie Knieriem losing the wraps that were tied about her shoes in 
doing so. They passed along the south side of the rows of trees, expecting every 
moment to reach the house. The snow was drifted over the path and they could not 
find it. When nearly exhausted from their struggle with the snow and wind they 
came against the pile of flax straw. They had passed between the house and the 
trees missing the building by not to exceed six feet. Fortunately they found a 
pitch fork and a lath at the stack and with these Fred and Charles began with 
furious energy to clear away the snow and dig a hole into the side of the pile 
of straw. In a few moments they had made a place large enough to crowd the 
teacher and pupils in out of the sweep of the wind.

   Having provided the rest of the school with a shelter the three older boys—
Fred, Ernest and Charles now endeavored to find the Hinner's residence. Some of 
the girls had worn aprons to school and these were torn into strips and tied 
into a long string. Taking one end of the string Fred went out into the storm 
and began circling about in hope of reaching, or at least getting in sight of 
the house. It was no use. He could see nothing. The storm was blinding, 
suffocating and bewildering. He followed the string back to the straw pile. Then 
they called, shouted, screamed—singly and in chorus, but there was little chance 
of their being heard above the howling of the wind. They now made preparations 
to spend the night in the stack. The hole was dug farther back into the straw 
and all crowded into it, Fred taking his place at the entrance. It was a long 
night. They told stories, they sung, every few moments the roll was called. 
There was but little complaining, although some were freezing. Fred Weeks, as 
the oldest boy in the school, was looked to as leader and he felt that upon him 
rested the burden of bringing the school through alive. He kept the others awake 
and made them talk, and sing and move and laugh, although occasionally one would 
cry. So the storm and the night passed. About four o'clock in the morning the 
twinkling stars, which Fred saw from his place at the side of the stack, told 
him the storm was abating. He arose and looked about. The cold was intense and 
the wind still blowing, but through the flying snow he caught a glimpse of the 
Hinner's residence, but a short distance away. His feet were badly frozen but he 
staggered through the snow until he reached the house and aroused the inmates.

   The teacher and pupils were taken to the house, all more or less frost 
bitten. Addie Knieriem had to be carried. Her feet were so badly frozen that 
amputation became necessary. Fred's feet were so badly frozen that the flesh 
dropped off, but he finally recovered.

Chapter 23.

   At the Young school house in Crow township Mrs. C. V. Martin was the teacher, 
but for some reason she was late that morning in getting started for the school 
house. The storm came on just as she was getting into the sleigh, and she 
remained at her boarding place. Of the pupils only two, Will and Wert Berger 
went to the school house that morning. They remained there until the next day.

   At the west school house in Dale township Fred Dickerson was teacher. The 
pupils were E. K. Robison and his brother Walter, Bert and Lary Pinard and 
Clark, Frank and John Easter. Aside from the inconvenience of staying all night 
at the school house they were none the worse for the storm.

   At the time, of the great blizzard R. J. Miller was teaching the Barber 
school, located at the northwest corner of section 35 in Pleasant township. The 
pupils in attendance on the 12th of January, 1888, were Emery, Richard, Amelia, 
Emma and Cora Barber and Sarah and Anna Elmore. A young man named Frank 
Harrington took Mr. Barber's team that morning to take the children to the 
school house. The storm struck when they were but a few yards from the school. 
They reached the house safely, but were compelled to stay there until the next 
morning. Heavy blankets were thrown over the horses and tied on so they came 
through the storm in good condition though badly chilled.

   At the same time Miss Minnie Stanley, (now Mrs. S. W. Boyd of Pleasant 
township) was teaching in the Waterbury school. This school house was located 
about forty rods north and a little west of the north end of the Main St. of the 
town. The pupils in attendance on the day of the great blizzard were, Clara 
Leeds, Walter Rowe, Agnew Hull, Elton Hill, Frank and Percy Snart, Frank, Jennie 
and Clara Hopkins, Elmer and Minnie Waterbury, Della, Ernest and Arthur Herring 
and Rasmus Nelson.

   When school closed at four o'clock in the afternoon, the teacher formed the 
pupils in line holding each others hands, and placing herself at the head, 
started for the village. She had placed Percy Snart, the largest of the boys, 
the last in the line, to bring up any who might falter or break away. Nothing 
serious happened until they reached the four corners by Herring & Rice's store. 
There a high bank of snow had formed across the street. Over it the whole line 
tumbled and hand clasps were broken. The teacher gathered the children again and 
piloted them to Hart's real estate office and got them in out of the storm. But 
in looking them over in the office she found that Percy Snart was missing. The 
teacher at once ran to Mr. Snart's store to see if the boy had gone there. He 
had not been seen and the alarm was at once given that he was lost in the 
blizzard. A few men rushed out calling and shouting the boy's name, but about 
that time he reached one of the office rooms on the east side of the street with 
cars and face badly frozen. He had held to the line until it fell over the snow 
bank and then became bewildered and could not find the others. He wandered about 
until he ran into a trench that had been cut through a drift to E. N. Mount's 
barn east of the street.

   At the Needham school house in Anina township W. L. Holden, was teacher. The 
pupils were Ada Needham, Alex, Truman and Ernest Vessey. School started that 
morning with but about one scuttle of coal on hand. About two o'clock in the 
afternoon the room became so cold that the teacher determined to take the 
children to the Needham residence, about 80 rods south. Fortunately the road had 
been well traveled and the snow blew out of it so that they were enabled to 
follow it without difficulty.

   Frank B. Phillips was the regular teacher at the Teasdale school house in the 
northeast part of Dale township. Business matters called him away for a couple 
of days and his mother took his place for the 11th and 12th. She spent the night 
of the 11th with her daughter, Mrs. B. B. Beadel, who resided on the Northeast 
quarter of section 1 of that township. On the morning of the 12th her little 
grandson, Jesse Beadel took her with a one-horse sled to the school house. A few 
moments after their arrival the storm began. They remained in the school house 
several hours waiting for the storm to abate. The horse, still hitched to the 
sleigh stood at the south end of the building, but the whirling snow was fast 
covering it. Pity for the poor horse prompted the boy and his grandmother to 
attempt to go to her home, three miles southeast, on the NE 14 of 19 in Alpena 
township. The road was little better than a path across the prairie and could 
not be followed. When about a mile from home they entered a corn field, where 
the horse fell in the deep snow. Jesse got out and unhitched the animal and 
assisted it to its feet, but he could do nothing to get the sled out of the 
snow. Walking was impossible and by this time they could not tell which way to 
go. The boy then kicked the snow away from the sled as much as possible and 
tipped it up so as to form a shelter from the wind and snow. He wrapped the 
robes about Mrs. Phillips so as to keep her as warm as possible and then crawled 
down beside her to wait. Darkness came on and still the storm raged. About 
daylight the next morning Jessie was able to see his uncle's house about half a 
mile away and he told his grandmother to remain under the sled while he went for 
help. As he rose from his cramped position he saw the horse a few rods away. His 
limbs were numb and he could scarcely stand, yet he made a brave effort and 
staggered along toward the house some distance before he succumbed to the 
intense cold. And there they found him a few hours later. Mrs. Phillips was 
rescued, but terribly chilled and badly frozen.

   At the center school house in Viola township Mrs. Wm. Wagner was teaching. 
The children at school on the day of the blizzard, were Frank Jonker, Karl 
Kruse, George Kruse, Frank and Florence Wagner, Ferdinand, Anna and Celia Clodt. 
The teacher retained the whole school all night, and the next morning Louis 
Jonker took all of them to his residence for breakfast.

   During the winter of the great storm Miss Anna Groub was teacher in the Groub 
school house in Marlar township. It was located about twenty rods southeast of 
her father's residence. The pupils in attendance on the 12th of January were Wm. 
James, Ira and May Grace, Allen and Frank McLean, Ed and Glen Ketchem, Zacharia 
Groub and Arthur Colley. In the afternoon John Groub undertook to bring the 
teacher and scholars from the school house to the Groub residence because of 
lack of fuel at the school. He made several trips taking two or three members of 
the school each time. The last venture was with his brother and the two McLean 
boys. He kept the directions all right but got confused as to the distance. When 
he had gone what he thought was but little more than half way to the residence, 
his brother Zacaria ("Trix") saw the tracks of his sled where he had been 
sliding down a large snow drift near the house and from which the wind was 
blowing the snow. He called John's attention to the marks on the snow bank and 
insisted they were near the house. John thought the house was some ways off and 
was for going further. At that instant Anna, the teacher, opened the door and 
called. Trix was right. The house was but a few feet away and they were safe.

   The Cady school in Anina township was taught that winter by Miss Sarah Fish. 
The pupils in attendance on January 12th were George and Jesse Martin, Jake and 
Lon Winegaarden, Dick, Chas. and Leo Lehmer, and Tillie, Galen, Will and Grace 
Shultz. All the pupils were kept at the school house until the next day.

   At Crow Lake the school was held in the residence of Mrs. A. M. Allyn, her 
daughter Ellen being the teacher. The only children in the school Jan. 12th, 
were Frank and Joseph Dusek. They stayed at the Allyn house all night.

   In Chery township M. A. Small was teaching in the southeast school. The 
pupils at school on the day of the storm were Sarah, Kate, Maggie, Anna and Joe 
Thornton, and Jesse Small. After the storm began Mr. Thornton became so worried 
about the children that he started out and went to the school house, half a mile 
from his residence, and warned the teacher to not let a child go home while the 
storm continued. He then went home and making up a package of provisions made 
another trip to the school.

   Mrs. Rose Gregory was teaching during that winter in the Dale Center school. 
At the school on the 12th of January, 1888, were the teacher's three children, 
Bert, Laura and Francis; Amanda and Lillabelle Chapman; Mary, Dan and James 
Tracy; Rosa Youngs; Matie, Nellie and Robert Mercer. In the afternoon Mr. 
Mercer, who lived near the school house, went after his children and took them 
home, but the risk was so great that he refused to take the other pupils out 
into the storm. The teacher remained at the school house until the morning of 
the 13th.

   The Kogle school in Franklin township was taught by Miss R. E. Havens, now 
Mrs. L. J. Grisinger of Lane. As soon as the storm struck she took a number of 
scarfs, tied them together and made a line that would reach from the door of the 
school house to the shed in which the coal was kept and with the help of the 
larger boys brought enough coal into the school room to last until the next 
morning. No one left the school house until the blizzard was past.

   John Francis, who was teaching in the Steichen district in Blaine township, 
remained at the school house all night with Chas. McCune, one of his pupils.

   J. A. Ford stayed all night with his school at the Ford school house in Viola 
township. The pupils were Howard and Susan Phillips; Lillie Ford, and Mable 
Rhodes.

   Miss Nellie White, who was employed in the Hawthorne district of Wessington 
Springs township, retained her pupils at the school house until Friday morning.

   Miss Nettie Miles, who was teaching the Rock Valley school in Franklin 
township that winter boarded with David McDowall's family. On the morning of the 
12th of January while at the breakfast table Mr. McD. told of some of the storms 
he had seen in Iowa, and then said to the teacher, "If any such storm comes on 
while you are teaching, don't let a child start for home." With her at the 
school house that night stayed Charles and Clarence Black; William McLean; May, 
Maggie, Nell, Will and Henry Shanley, and Gilbert, Margaret, Anna and Allen 
McDowall. The next morning at daylight Mr. McDowall went for them and had the 
whole4 school at his home for breakfast.

   Mrs. J. W. Harden, during the winter of 1888 taught the largest school in 
Franklin township in what was then called the Larson school house. Many of her 
pupils, who stayed with her that night, are now grown and still living in 
Jerauld county. Among them were: Andrew, David and Jennie Reid; Wm. and Robt. 
Brownell; Oscar and Christ Lindebak; John Volke; Emma and Lizzie Forst; Henry 
and Christ Refvem; John, Angeline, Christ, and Anna Burg; Emma, Dora. Lydia, 
Henry, Martha and John Goll; Selma Newman.

   N. E. Williams, now of Mattock, Iowa, gives the following account of his 
recollection of the time:

   "The blizzard of 1888 was one of those convulsions of nature that can only 
occur when there is a certain combination of circumstances and conditions.

   Those conditions are only present at rare intervals and such a storm may not 
occur again in a hundred years if ever, and on account of the thicker settlement 
of the county and the presence of groves and fences to serve as guides to the 
bewildered, such a storm would not at the present time be nearly so calamitous.

   The winter of 1887—88 opened with unusual severity. All through December and 
the early part of January the snow covered the ground deeply and the cold was 
steady and intense.

   The weather being so cold and the roads so bad the settlers who lived long 
distances from town had remained at home until coal and provisions were nearly 
exhausted, so that when the morning of January 12th opened warm and balmy some 
one from nearly every home started for town to replenish their supplies. Stock 
that had been shut up in the stable for a long time were turned out to feed 
around the straw piles and to get a little needed exercise. Everything was in 
just the condition to make a sudden storm cause the greatest amount of loss and 
suffering possible.

   At that time I was living on the old homestead in Anina township, the family 
consisting of my wife and one little daughter, about two years old, my brother 
Geo. O. Williams, and myself. My brother was teaching the Moore school in Anina 
township and I was teaching the Nesmith school over in the edge of Viola. We 
were short of provisions and someone had to go to town for more. So George 
concluded not to teach that day and hitching up the team to a home-made sled he 
started for the "Springs" taking me with him as far as the schoolhouse where I 
taught. Before leaving home I turned the cattle out into the yard, which 
contained a large straw pile, and which was surrounded by a good high fence.

   It was somewhat foggy and the air was saturated with moisture, the sun 
showing dimly through the haze. On every hand we could see cattle wandering 
around the prairie enjoying the unusual warmth and teams going across the plains 
in the direction of Wessington Springs and Woonsocket.

   At forenoon recess I was standing in front of the school house, surrounded by 
a group of the pupils and was just saying that I ought to dismiss school and go 
to Woonsocket for coal when a sudden whiff of cold air caused us all to turn and 
look toward the north, where we saw what appeared to be a huge cloud rolling 
over and over along the ground, blotting out the view of the nearby hills and 
covering everything in that direction as with a blanket. There was scarcely time 
to exclaim at the unusual appearance when the cloud struck us with awful 
violence and in an instant the warm and quiet day was changed into a howling 
pandemonium of ice and snow.

   The moisture which filled the air was changed to particles of ice, and driven 
by a wind of tremendous velocity, it drifted in through every crack and crevice 
almost up to the stove which we kept red hot to drive away the fearful chill 
which accompanied the storm. The noise of the storm was so deafening that it was 
impossible to conduct classes, so we passed the day in such study as was 
possible under the circumstances. My mind, meanwhile, being racked with anxiety 
as to what was happening to the family and stock, and filled with fear for those 
who were caught out on the prairie. I had heard of such storms lasting for three 
or four days and could not help worrying over our own fate if such should be the 
case this time, twenty of us shut up without provisions or sufficient fuel in a 
little shack on the prairie. It was evident that our safety lay in remaining 
where we were and peremptory orders were given that no one should leave the 
schoolhouse for any purpose, for the storm was so blinding, bewildering and 
suffocating that one could not face it for a moment and it was equally dangerous 
to go with the wind without any guide or landmark.

   As night drew on and the children began to get hungry, there were tears on 
the part of the younger pupils and rebellion on the part of the older boys who, 
with the rashness of youth, proposed to go home in spite of everything but I 
would not allow them to attempt it and told them that they must stay there even 
if force had to be used to make them do it. In spite of this, however, two of 
the big boys started out when my back was turned and for a few minutes I was 
sick with anxiety, but they soon came in again, white and scared, and after that 
there was no trouble, all were glad enough to stay.

   It soon became necessary to replenish the supply of coal. The coal house 
stood about thirty feet west of the school house. By creeping" in the shelter of 
the west side of the house, then shutting my eyes and making a dash for it I was 
able to reach the coal house and after a number of such trips had qnough coal to 
last until morning. While getting in the coal I first fully realized the awful 
smothering weight of the blizzard. The face was covered with ice in an instant, 
the eyes frozen shut and the breath taken away completely, while the fine 
particles of ice were driven into the clothing until, in a few moments, one was 
fairly cased in icy armor. There were electrical phenomena present also and we 
amused ourselves by putting the point of the poker to the stove and watching the 
shower of sparks leap out to meet it and by passing the hand over each others 
heads which would crackle and snap with electric energy.

   After two o'clock the wind began to abate somewhat and shortly after that 
time Mr. Frank Yoge, who had children in the school, appeared laden with good 
things to eat for us all. He had taken considerable risk, but traveling with the 
storm was able to reach us in safety. All through the early part of the night we 
could hear the low moaning bellowing of Dr. Nesmith's cattle which were caught 
in the storm while near the school house and stood there slowly freezing through 
the night and when morning dawned they still stood there, some still alive, some 
dead on their feet, kept from falling by the snow, which had packed around them 
to the knees and was almost as hard as ice. With the first streak of dawn, by 
which time the blizzard proper was over, though a cutting wind still blew from 
the N. W., I could stand it no longer and started for home. I shall never forget 
the sensation which overpowered me when I got to the top of the ridge which 
divides Hawkeye Valley from the pairie and saw the smoke rising from the 
chimneys at H. C. Stephens'. J. A. Swan's and S. S. Moore's, while there were no 
signs of life at the Williams home.

   I pictured my wife frozen to death while trying to save the cattle, the baby 
dead in the house and the home desolate. But my fears were groundless. The 
little girl was snugly wrapped in bed and the good wife was vainly trying to 
shovel away the snow from the barn door in order to get in a couple of steers 
which had saved their lives by getting in the lee of the house as they drifted 
away with the storm. I first got my half frozen wife into the house, started a 
good fire and then turned my attention to saving the stock and succeeded in 
saving three out of eleven head which at that time was all we had. It seems that 
the snow had drifted over the barnyard fence and packed so hard that the cattle 
could walk over it and the silly brutes, instead of seeking the shelter of the 
straw pile, had walked over the fence and drifted away with the storm. The 
cattle that were saved were a strange sight with their bodies completely cased 
in ice, their heads, masses of ice as large as bushel baskets from the congealed 
breath and, unable to sustain the weight, resting on the ground. Hammering off 
the ice with a club and pushing them around to restore the circulation it was 
possible after a time to get them in the barn. Their ears and tails were frozen 
and afterward dropped off. I think there were more bob-tailed and crop eared 
cattle in Jerauld county after the blizzard than ever before or since.

   My wife had passed the night in great anxiety and suspense. She knew the 
cattle were perishing and feared that I had left the school house and attempted 
to get home. Once she started out to try to save the cattle, but after going a 
few steps realized that it was a desperate venture and the thought of what would 
become of the little girl if she were lost restrained her and caused her to 
return to the house. To this she undoubtedly owes her life. All night long she 
kept up as much fire as the short supply of coal would permit and had the lamp 
burning in the window to guide me in case I had tried to reach home.

   Toward noon Bro. George appeared with the team and relieved our great 
anxiety. It seems that he got to the "Springs" just as the blizzard struck and 
was safely housed through it all. Our personal losses were small, but in the 
aggregate the losses were immense. Dead cattle were lying around the prairies 
all over South Dakota and here and there human beings were frozen to death or 
maimed for life.

   Mr. and Mrs. Davis were the only ones who lost their lives in our 
neighborhood. They perieshed near their home, a short distance east of the 
school house, where the children end myself spent the night. Some men made 
considerable journeys safely in the height of the storm.

   Mr. John Grant went from the "Springs" to his home, a mile south, and arrived 
all right. With the wind in one's back and a cool head it was possible. To face 
the wind was out of the question. Genial Mike Barr, afterward killed by 
lightning, started from Judge Converse's for home, became bewildered, and 
finding a straw pile, crawled into it for shelter. In the middle of the pile he 
found a huge hog that had taken refuge there. The warmth of its body kept Mike 
from freezing and thereafter it was never safe to say a word against swine in 
his presence.

   There was a cruel aftermath to the blizzard, funerals, surgical operations, 
cripples, fingers with first joints gone, ears without rims, and some like poor 
Will Moss, who spent the night on the prairie in the shelter of his cutter, and 
supposed that he had escaped without damage, afterward died of diseases caused 
by the exposure.
   Many incidents might be mentioned but space forbids, I write only of personal 
experiences and happenings in the home neighborhood. The storm, how-ever, was 
not confined to South Dakota alone. It swept over northwestern Iowa with equal 
violence. Three persons lost their lives in the vicinity of Sheldon, where we 
now reside. Such a calamity is no more likely to occur in South Dakota than in 
any other prairie state, but those who passed through it devoutly hope that such 
may not happen again any time or anywhere.

   Mrs. Anna Tryon remained all night with her school in the Fanston school 
house in Pleasant township.

Chapter 24.

   The narrow escapes of individuals in the county, if told with fulness of 
detail, would fill a volume. I have gathered a few that can be verified, but 
many experiences, equally hazardous must necessarily remain untold.

   In the winter of 1888 E. S. Waterbury was residing on his homestead, the NE 
of 28 in Crow township. On the morning of the 12th of January he drove to the 
village, of Waterbury, taking his children. Minnie and Elmer, to the public 
school. After the storm set in Mr. Waterbury took the two children and Rasmus 
Nelson and started for home. Mrs. Waterbury was in poor health and at the 
homestead alone. Soon after starting the team got off the erack and plunged into 
a snow drift. The two boys Elmer and Rasmus then went ahead of the horses, 
pulled them back to the road which was well beaten, and joining hands were able 
to follow the track until they ran against the windmill near the house. They had 
led the team nearly a mile.

   Mr. Timothy Tryon, who then lived on the S. E. of 26 in Pleasant township, 
was on his way to the home of C. S. Barber on the NW of 35, when the storm came 
on. He turned about and attempted to go back home but was lost and wandered 
about for several hours. By the greatest good luck he chanced to run against Z. 
S. Moulton's house in Lrow Lake township and was rescued, but badly chilled.

   Isaac Byam, who lived on the NE of 24 in Pleasant township, was at his well 
watering the cattle when the strom struck. He drove the animals into shelter and 
then went to the house. In the afternoon the coal pile was so covered with snow 
that he could not find it, so he went to the granary and brought a sack of corn. 
he made a second trip, but missed the granary and came back. He tried again and 
when he reached the place where he expected to find the building he could see 
nothing of it. He stood for several minutes trying to see the granary, which he 
knew could not be far from him. A lull in the wind, no longer than a flash, gave 
him a glimpse of a dark object. He reached his hand toward it and touched the 
side of the granary. By that time the snow had sifted into the building through 
some nail holes and small cracks sufficiently to block the door. He then opened 
the window and climbed in that way. He filled the sack with corn and again made 
his way to the house, a distance of about twenty rods.

   In Viola township August Schuttpelz and W. P. Shulz were at work building a 
small shanty. They had boarded up one side of it when the blizzard came. They 
took shelter behind the side of the shanty. In a few moments the snow began 
piling in a drift about them. One of them took a scoop shovel they had brought 
with them and shoveled it away. The snow kept piling about them and they 
continued to throw it back, taking turns with the shovel. So all day and all 
night they fought against being buried alive in a snow bank. They were badly 
chilled but came out of it safe and sound.

   On the NW of 13 in Franklin township lived Frank Kutil, on land he had 
purchased from Joseph Sucha. Sucha was at Kutil's house when the storm came. 
Like many other early settlers, Kutil was economizing, that winter, by burning 
hay, instead of coal. The stack was about twenty rods northeast of the house. 
Several times that day Kutil and Sucha together went to the stack for fuel, 
taking a rope with which to tie the hay into a bundle. After the bundle was 
formed it required the united strength of both to hold it. When they thought 
they were near the house they would stop and kneel down until they caught a 
glimpse of the peak of the roof and then go on. It was perilous work, but there 
was no other way.

   In Chery township Mr. M. A. Scheafer was in his stable when the blizzard came 
on. He tried several times to make his way, against the storm, but each time 
gave it up and returned to the stable, where he was compelled to remain until 
the storm was over.

   At Wessington Springs T. L. Blank, who was then publishing the Wessington 
Springs Herald left his printing office, located near where the Oliver hotel now 
stands, and made his way along the foothills to his residence, a mile northwest 
of town, on one of the highest points.

   On the night of the blizzard J. H. Woodburn, who was then boarding at Price's 
ohtel. then known as the "Woodburn House" stepped to the door to look out, when 
he heard some one who was lost in the storm, calling for help. Accompanied by J. 
W. Barnum he ran across the street in the direction of the voice. They found L. 
J. Farnsworth a few feet south of Tarbell’s hotel barn nearly crazed with fear. 
Woodburn caught him by the coat and dragged him to the barn door and pushed him 
inside. As he opened the door to let Farnsworth in, the light from the lantern 
that hung in the stable flashed upon some hideous looking objects just outside 
the door. Woodburn knew they were animals of some sort and calling to Barnum 
they drove them inside. It proved to be three oxen that had wandered from the 
residence of Mr. Coffee in the north part of town. The animals were completely 
covered with snow and nearly suffocated with the great balls of ice that had 
formed over their nostrils.

   August Bachmore's residence in Crow Lake township was on section ten. A few 
moments before the storm the sheep, about a hundred of them, were turned out of 
the stable. The cattle shed was built into the side hill, with a hole in the 
roof for convenience in getting hay to the animals. The cattle were in the 
stable, but all efforts to get the sheep into shelter failed and they had to be 
left outside, where most of them were found after the storm suffocated with the 
snow and ice that had formed over their noses. While the men were in the cattle 
stable making everything as comfortable as possible for the inmates, Frank 
Sailer came tumbling through the hole in the roof. He had been caught by the 
storm while going home from Crow Lake and getting lost fate had guided his steps 
to the hole in the roof of Bachmore's shed.

   Vaurin Dusek then lived where he does now, on the north bank of Crow Lake, 
Crow Lake township. He had taken his ax to the lake to cut holes in the ice to 
water the cattle, while his daughter, Mary, now Mrs. Petrole, drove them from 
the barn. He had cut but one hole when he became enveloped in the whirling mass 
of wind and snow. He immediately left the lake and went to meet his daughter, 
while she left the cattle and ran in search for her father. As luck would have 
it they bumped against each other about half way between the barn and the lake. 
Together they made their way from one object to another until they reached the 
house. The cattle, 18 in number, all crossed to the south shore of the lake and 
smothered in the storm.

   C. S. Marvin lived on the NW of 18 in Logan township. He and his boy were 
driving his cattle to the residence of A. S. Fordham, on section 17, for water, 
when they were caught by the storm. The wind and snow hid the cattle from sight, 
and after riding about in a vain endeavor to round them up they attempted to go 
back home. That was found to be impossible and they turned toward Fordham's 
again. As good fortune would have it they reached the barn where Mr. Marvin left 
the boy and groped his way to the house. Mr. Fordham at once went to the barn 
and took care of the animals. He then told the boy to take hold of his coat 
tails and taking the direction as nearly as he could judge started for the 
house. They were passing the house when they tumbled over a snow bank and rolled 
together down against the building and were safe.

   On the NE af 32 in Logan township a son of Joseph Byers was watering the 
cattle at a pond near the barn, when the storm came. He attempted to drive the 
cattle to the barn against the wind. Being unable to do so he went to the house 
and told his father. Mr. Byers started at once to take care of the animals. The 
neighbors found him the next day about four miles south in Brule county, frozen 
to death beside a hay stack, where he had tried to find shelter.

   Chas. Kugler, in the western part of Media township, was out with his team of 
oxen and hay rack getting a load of straw from a stack about forty rods from his 
house. He unhitched the team from the wagon and tried to get back to the 
buildings, but did not succeed. They found his frozen body with his team, near 
the residence of J. T. Ferguson in the northwest part of Anina township, the 
following Sunday afternoon.

   After the storm a boy was found frozen to death near the north end of Long 
Lake in Harmony township. He had wandered in the storm from a few miles south of 
Miller, in Hand county, to where he dropped, overcome by the cold and 
exhaustion.

   G. R. Bateman and William Taylor were on the way to Woonsocket and wandered 
on the prairie several hours, finally getting in at the Hawthorne residence near 
the Firesteel creek.

   A man named James Hutchinson tried to go from his house to the barn, but 
becoming confused he sat down in a snow bank and as he phrased it, "Hollered 
like a loon," until his wife, thinking she heard him call, went to the door and 
answered. He followed toward the sound of her voice and reached the house.

   Andrew Berg, living in Franklin township, tried to get a pail of water from 
his well during the storm, but wandered five miles, returning home the next day.

   Mr. William Davis, an elderly gentleman living in Viola township, started 
just before the storm to go southwest across a quarter section to the residence 
of J. N. Smith. He was lost near the barn and perished but a short distance from 
home. Mrs. Davis was found a few steps from the house almost dead. She died a 
few minutes after being taken in.

   Mr. Ezra Voorhees, of Media township, lived on the NE quarter of 35. He was 
about three quarters of a mile south of his house with Elmer Carpenter, when 
they were caught in the storm. They immediately started for Mr. V.'s residence. 
His dog acted as guide. The intelligent animal would dash off into the storm and 
immediately return, as if to see if the men were following. This he continued 
until they reached the house.



Additional Comments:
From "A History of Jerauld County; From the Earliest Settlement to January 15,
1909" by N. J. Dunham

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