Ancestry Magazine

The Battle With Mother Nature

The effects of weather have altered lives all over the world. Historical events like the Chicago fire and the San Francisco earthquake are only two events that remind us that ultimately, mother nature is in control.

The dust storm of southern Idaho that cold, dark Thanksgiving evening in 1954 brought heartache and shock to our family. Preparing to leave after the final slice of turkey and pumpkin pie had been served, two of Grandma’s brothers, their wives, and one married son with his young, pregnant wife piled happily and contentedly into the car to complete their long journey homeward.

Aside from the usual happiness that accompanies our family at these gatherings, that day was especially a time for celebration. Uncle Myron, who had been blind for the past 18 years of his life, had just recovered from a successful eye surgery in Salt Lake City and could now see from one of his eyes. His family had picked him up from the hospital that day, and had stopped at Grandma’s home in Ogden, Utah for Thanksgiving dinner before completing the trip back to Idaho.

Laughing and joking ensued between the festive travelers and the remaining family members who planned an early departure the following morning. Fond farewells were bidden, congratulations given to Uncle Myron for the miracle he was experiencing, and plans settled for the coming Christmas holiday.

My father, then a young eight-year-old boy, watched and listened to the adults in the driveway, feeling the cause for celebration in the chill, November air. He glanced up at his uncle and recalled how just a few minutes earlier he had seen him glance down at his watch and remark that he could actually tell the time on the small timepiece. Everyone was humbled and filled with joy as they watched him experience the little, seemingly insignificant details of the "seeing" world.

The joy and celebration of the day, however, did not last long. Tragedy soon struck those happy travelers and life was never again the same for our family. It was years before anyone had the heart to gather to share a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.

The call came from another of Grandma’s brothers long after the lights had dimmed in the small apartment and all within were sleeping peacefully. In a quiet tone, he asked her to sit down, and then he calmly spoke the sobering words that would remain forever instilled in the memory of my grandmother.

A semi-truck, my family’s car, and a car driven by a drunk driver with his intoxicated friends had been involved in a serious crash. Because of the blinding effects of the dust storm, my family had agreed with the semi-truck driver ahead that they would follow close behind in order to heighten their already limited visibility. However, one car on the road had failed to notice the slow-moving procession ahead. The intoxicated driver had come speeding from behind, crashing into my family’s car with such force that it instantly exploded and was crumpled into a space of four feet–only charred bodies remained for the coroner to examine, and they could only be identified by the jewelry on their fingers. Seven members of my family died that night, victims of one intoxicated driver’s carelessness and one of nature’s most formidable storms.

"It takes weather anomalies–blizzards, tornadoes, hurricanes, or temperature extremes–to remind us that the world is still governed by nature," writes Francesca Lyman in The Greenhouse Trap (26). Of all that man has learned to dominate and control, the force of nature remains one of the only forces that can never be contained; we are, and always will be, at its mercy.

The Thanksgiving Day tragedy described above, as difficult as it was for my family all those years ago, is not unique. Many tragedies have occurred due to the ravages of extreme weather conditions. With each event, we watch the natural world at odds with its inhabitants and we see the responses people have toward disasters. While many are killed instantly without a chance for survival, some struggle desperately to survive; some become apathetic to the destruction and suffering around them; while others act heroically to save lives around them.

On a yearly basis, the United States is afflicted with hurricanes in the east coast, flooding in the midwest, forest fires, earthquakes, and any number of tornadoes, blizzards, and storms. Historically, the weather has struck as harsh a chord in peoples’ lives as any we feel today. Historians list the four major events to wreak devastation on the country as the Chicago fire of 1871, the Johnstown flood of 1889, the Galveston hurricane of 1900, and the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. A short discussion of each of these events will help provide a flavor of the havoc nature’s storms have caused on humanity, and our reactions to them.

Galveston, Texas, located on the island of Galveston in the Gulf of Mexico, thrives on industry and exports. Its citizens of over 30,000 in the early 1900s were generally economically successful and comfortable with existing conditions and until the ill-fated morning of Sept. 7, 1900, the people of Galveston enjoyed their life on the remote island. However, weather watchers had been following a growing storm in the Atlantic for several days and were warning of the impending danger of a hurricane. Unfortunately, people ignored the warnings, and within a day after the hurricane had hit the island, all that remained of the beautiful city was a mass of crumbled buildings and debris, and forlorn, hopeless survivors wandering aimlessly, the stench of rotting flesh all around. It is estimated that over 8,000 people and most of the animals died that day, victims of one of the deadliest natural disasters in U.S. history.

The people of Galveston fought desperately for survival–some succeeded, but many others lost their lives to the ravages of the hurricane. One family’s tragedy is haunting but typifies the suffering of that night. Together with his wife, three daughters, and a brother, Isaac Cline hoped to wait out the storm in their home. That ill-fated evening, however, the wind became too fierce, and the house toppled. All but Isaac’s wife scrambled from the wreckage to sit on the then-floating roof of their home.

"For the next three hours they scrambled from one piece of wreckage to another as the house broke up. The rain fell in torrents, while the roaring wind hurled timbers and other missiles past their heads. The brothers huddled with their backs to the wind and the children in front of them, holding planks behind them to ward off the deadly flying debris that killed so many that terrible night. Even so, they sometimes were struck by heavier objects and knocked into the raging water."

The storm abated soon thereafter. The wreckage they clung to grounded, and they crawled to safety. Unfortunately, Isaac Cline’s wife did not appear. "Almost a month later, the body of Cora May Cline was found under the wreckage that carried her family to safety" (Hughes).

Chicago’s "storm" of 1871, although unrelated to the hurricanes of the southeastern coast, was described by poet John Greenleaf Whittier as a "fiery hurricane" (Lowe 5) that struck the great city with such force that two days later, half of the city had been destroyed and 300 lives lost. Those relating the events of that catastrophic "hurricane" say that too little rain and a strong wind blowing off the prairie had been the cause behind the destruction of the Windy City. According to legend, however, responsibility was placed on one slovenly cow who kicked over a lantern in her barn somewhere along the southwest corner of Chicago, igniting the dry and highly flammable barn and ultimately bringing destruction to a large part of the city.

"Again and again through the centuries, victims of severe weather compare the experience to combat. They speak of carrying permanent mental scars, horrifying memories they cannot shake off," writes James LeMoyne. For the survivors of Chicago’s great fire, the experience was a battle. The Chicago Timesdescribes it as "the onslaught of a cavalry corps on the retreating army’s rear. The flames advanced like the charges of an army" (Lowe 4).

Two days after the sparks ignited, a steady rain on the burning city put out the flames and within days hope had returned. Signs that the city was beginning to heal from it s wounds of war and storm became evident everywhere–soon new buildings were replacing the burned, and lifeblood was returning to the ravaged city.

Ironically, although it was rain that brought Chicagoans to their knees with thanksgiving, it was also rain that wreaked havoc on a tiny community in eastern Pennsylvania in May of 1889. Excessive rainfall and an overburdened dam in the hills let loose a flood that leveled the community of Johnstown, Pennsylvania. Twenty million tons of water came raging down the mountain with the force of Niagara Falls; 3,000 people died, and hundreds lost their homes.

Yet with the tragedy, tales of heroism, bravery and valor exist in the annuls of that day. One survivor tells of how, as a small child, she floated alone on a water-soaked mattress, at risk at any moment to become the flood’s next victim. She called out for help from anyone who could offer assistance, but no one else floating in the floodwaters was willing to risk their life for hers. Finally, a man floating by on a roof with several others, jumped into the swirling flood waters. He swam to her, and, with all the strength he had remaining, hurled her some fifteen feet to safety. Soon after the flood struck its deadly blow, Red Cross volunteers and many others came to Johnstown to help ease the strain and suffering of the horrifying flood.

Feats of heroism are commonplace during catastrophic events such as these. San Francisco’s earthquake and subsequent fire in 1906 offered the same opportunities for heroism. Early in the morning on April 18, 1906, an earthquake, estimated 8.3 on the Richter scale, hit the Bay Area with a force that nearly destroyed the city. That event, together with the fire it caused, killed over 3,000 people, destroyed 28,000 buildings, and left over half of the population homeless. One critical problem after the initial trauma of the earthquake was the inability to fight the fire; for four days fire burned the city with such force that firefig hters could not get close enough to extinguish it.

One historian relates the acts of a young hero. "A corps of volunteer aides ran along the edge of the fire, warning people out of the houses. But the flames ran too fast and three women were caught in the upper story of an old frame house. A young man tore a rail from a fence, managed to climb it, and reached the window. He bundled one woman out and slid her down the rail; then the roof caught fire. He seized another woman and managed to drop her on the rail, down which she slid without hurting herself a great deal. But the roof fell while he was struggling with another woman and they fell together into the flames" (Wilson 106).

The storms and calamities described above have taken in their wake the very lives and livelihood of entire communities. What remains of the event is a deepened respect for the power of the elements and many tales by survivors and historians alike. Individuals are impacted, lives altered, and true character revealed.

"Its impact on human life is obvious and immediate," writes Thomas Levenson. He further says that catastrophic weather events "form the landmark around which we hang the memories of a particular time and place" (79). The weather’s impact is obvious in the lives of mankind–be it a dust storm in remote Idaho that ended in personal tragedy for my family, a fire in Chicago that tested the will of its survivors, or a hurricane in Texas that brought devastation upon a small community. Individuals’ lives throughout history have been impacted and altered because of the forces of nature–the forces that man will never control.

Jennifer Browning is a freelance writer and the Associate Editor of Ancestry Magazine.

Works Cited
Hughes, Patrick. "The Great Galveston Hurricane." Weatherwise, Jan/Feb., 1998.
Laskin, David. Braving the Elements. New York: Doubleday, 1996.
Lemoyne, James. "In the Storm." The New Yorker, Oct. 5, 1992.
Levenson, Thomas. Ice Time: Climate, Science, and Life on Earth. NY: Harper and Row, 1989.
Lowe, David. Ed. The Great Chicago Fire. NY: Dover Publications, Inc., 1979.
Lyman Francesca. The Greenhouse Trap: What We’re Doing to the Atmosphere and How We Can Slow Global Warming. Boston: Beacon P, 1990.
Wilson, James Russel. San Francisco’s Horror of Earthquake and Fire. Memorial Publishing Co., 1906.

*See also WeatherLabs.com for historical weather events. Their database covers daily weather information back to the 1830s for many American cities.