It seems that the blizzards of late 1948 and especially January 1949 were some of the worst, if not the worst, in Nebraska’s recorded history. York County was significantly impacted by the 2 January 1949 storm; counties in western Nebraska and the northern half of the state had it even worse.
In fact, in an attempt to save cattle on western ranches from starvation, the Air Force sent a number of planes on what was termed Operation Haylift. C-45, C-47, and C-82 cargo planes transported bales of hay and dropped them close to cattle stranded in inaccessible pastures. If I have my story correct, Daniel (eighteen at the time) wanted to help with Operation Haylift, but Grandpa thought better of the idea.
All that is prelude to something discovered while researching the history of this weather event: seven years ago the York News Times published a story about the blizzard in which Matilda was interviewed and had the opportunity to reminisce about it. The article can be read in its entirety here; the portion that is most relevant to Matilda reads as follows:
York resident Matilda Klippenstein remembers the same sort of self-reliance and resilience from Nebraska residents of those days.
Many rural people heated their homes with coal or wood. They raised or made their own meat, milk and butter. They baked their own bread in wood-fired ovens. Most of them, even if they had run electricity into their homes, still had old kerosene lamps and fuel around.
“We could be snowbound and not be hurt all that bad by it,” Matilda says.
A native of rural Lushton, Matilda was married in the last days of 1948. “There was snow then already,” she recalls, “but not like we had later.”
She and her new husband were living temporarily with his parents when the early January blizzard hit. She smiles, her only concession to the stresses of such close quarters under adverse conditions.
Matilda was teaching 15 pupils at the District 80 country schoolhouse [see map to the right], a mile north of Lushton, during this snowy winter. Part of Matilda’s duties included arriving early at the schoolhouse to build a fire in the heating stove.
Fortunately, school was out when the January blizzard descended on Nebraska. Neither Matilda nor her students were in danger of getting lost in the storm.
She recalls enormous drifts smothering the railroad tracks. In those years following World War II, the railroads were still central to transportation in Nebraska and many parts of the United States, moving people, goods, mail, coal and food. Just about every small town was served by regular train routes. As crews today diligently clear snow from highways, during those days they worked to open up the rail lines.
Many rural people heated their homes with coal or wood. They raised or made their own meat, milk and butter. They baked their own bread in wood-fired ovens. Most of them, even if they had run electricity into their homes, still had old kerosene lamps and fuel around.
“We could be snowbound and not be hurt all that bad by it,” Matilda says.
A native of rural Lushton, Matilda was married in the last days of 1948. “There was snow then already,” she recalls, “but not like we had later.”
She and her new husband were living temporarily with his parents when the early January blizzard hit. She smiles, her only concession to the stresses of such close quarters under adverse conditions.
Fortunately, school was out when the January blizzard descended on Nebraska. Neither Matilda nor her students were in danger of getting lost in the storm.
She recalls enormous drifts smothering the railroad tracks. In those years following World War II, the railroads were still central to transportation in Nebraska and many parts of the United States, moving people, goods, mail, coal and food. Just about every small town was served by regular train routes. As crews today diligently clear snow from highways, during those days they worked to open up the rail lines.
The railroad track is clearly visible in the map, going from the bottom toward the center and then turning to the right (east). It is also easy to spot the Buller farm in the southwest quarter of section 36 (the quarter labeled John Runnalls).
One thing that confuses is the disconnect between the news article, which says that Matilda taught at District 80 a mile north of Lushton, and the earlier information that Matilda taught at a school a mile west of Lushton and that Esther taught at the school a mile north (see here). So which is it? One more piece of family history that we almost know!
Until I saw the York News Times article, I had no idea that Matilda was a schoolteacher. Until I learned more about the Model A, I did not know that Esther was also a schoolteacher. Until a few weeks ago, I had no clue that (at least) one of Grandpa and Grandma’s children had served in the armed forces. (Do you know who?) One wonders how many other family facts are waiting to be rediscovered.
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