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The Blizzard of l886
By: Mrs. Orpha Comstock
The blizzard
of January 6th, 1886, was the worst of which we have any record.
Henry Upson, whose homestead was five miles west of Selden, perished in that storm.
I will tell of the blizzard as told to me by Miss Lola Cyrus, who, with her parents and sister, Lydia, came to northwest Kansas in 1879.
The fall of 1885 was fair and warm, up until after Christmas. During the last week of the old year a deep snow had fallen and laid level. On New Year’s Day, Mr.
C. Goisonhenor (Mrs. Cyrus’ brother) and his family and Henry Upson came in sleds to the Cyrus home for New Year’s dinner. Mr. Goisonhenor had moved from his
homestead near the Cyrus home, 5 miles to the creek farm where Augusta now lives. The first of week of the new year he with the help of Mr. Upson and other
neighbors were hauling his corn and feed from the homestead with 4-horse teams. On the 6th of January the weather was perfect. The men continued to haul their feed.
In the north there hung all afternoon what appeared to be a white fog. Mr. Upson told the men he would walk to Hawkeye Postoffice, a distance of about two
miles north for the neighborhood mail. He returned with the mail to the Cyrus home toward evening. Mrs. Cyrus gave him lunch and hot coffee and they wanted him to
stay all night. He said, “No, I’ll go on. I'll make it by following the wagon trail of the men.” He accepted a pair of warm mittens
grandrnother Cyrus had made and was on the way.
The blizzard struck~~ ‘We once read were someone asked “What is a blizzard?” And the answer was like this:
The real blizzard’! has its genesis in the afternoon of a perfect day. There will be noticed a haze in the northern horizon. There will be a
puff of wind ever so slightly freighted with the tang of boreas
· In thirty minutes time the sky will be overcast by clouds of
steel gray. In no time they will be sending out their hoard of
stinging ice, a blast of winter. In an hour the temperature drops forty degrees. In two hours
60 degrees or more. Before nightfall there is a gale so piercing that strong men fall before it. The
landscape disappears. Landmarks are blotted out. The gale
sweeps bare one plot of earth end piles the residue of the storm dune-high in another. And ever and always the
dunes shift
and recede. One who walks the path of a blizzard at its height takes
his life in his hands. There have been those who lost themselves forever in their own front yards. A blizzard holds sway from one
to three days. Then one morning the sun shines and the
wind dies to a whisper ~the cold freezes the marrow of the bones. The worst is over and that’s a blizzard, and that’s the storm
that Mr. Upson walked out into that winter night so
long ago after leaving the Cyrus home.
Neighbors who knew he was out asked themselves these questions: where was
Henry Upson? Was he lost? Had he found shelter with some settler? Would the storm, cold and
relentless, claim him or would morning find him safe, alive?
The storm raged fourteen days. Lola told us her house, which was part dug-out was drifted under so deeply that they had to light
lamps for several days. Mr. Cyrus was able to get to the corn bin and for days they burned corn. The crop of feed and corn was good the fall before. Some of their
cattle perished. The family was comfortable enough in their warm house of part sod, part due-out. They walked over a hayrack buried in the yard for weeks.
As soon as was possible men gathered together to find Mr.
Upson. There could be no doubt any longer. He had perished. Mr. Chas Havice riding on what is now the
Collie Rogers farm rode over on horseback to the W.W. Warner homestead. They told
him their purpose. He told then that he had noticed a strange snow-covered
object about a mile back. He turned and went back and the men followed until they came to the strange
looking object. It was the frozen man. The storm had taken its toll. This 1..as on the old S. J. Baughman place where Alphonce Juenemann lived up until a few months
ago. The settlers mourned the passing of a friend, a neighbor, and a highly respected
citizen. Days afterward with funeral services burial was held in the Hawkeye Cemetery.
The mark of the dug-out home of Henry Upson can still be seen on the banks of the Prairie Dog one—half mile east of Augusta Goisenhenors house
· Every summer tollwhite soap cactus, mute sentinels mark the spot. |
