April 14, 1935, dawned clear, but by afternoon the worst dust storm of he “Dirty Thirties” struck across the Great Plains. “It rolled, it didn’t just dust,” Arthur Leonard of Dodge City, Kansas, will later remember. “It was coal black and it was terrible.”

It was a terrible time for the folks in the United States’ Great Plains when a seemingly endless drought followed excessive plowing of the soil and caused the earth to let loose it’s hold on it’s very skin. The stripped soil boiled up into the air, infiltrating every crevice it could find, inanimate or alive.

People were already hurting just about as badly as they could bear because of the devastating Great Depression brought on by a huge stock market crash in 1929. Now everything looked hopeless, and for many it was. The 1930s started out well enough for the Great Plains residents, but it wasn’t long until the decade was named “the Dirty Thirties” by Midwesterners crazed from extremes of blizzards and tornadoes, floods and droughts.

The Dust Bowl of the 1930’s was a devastating period of weather extremes and artificially eroded soils resulting in terrible dust storms coupled with alternating drought and heat with blizzards and floods.

“In 1930 R’s (Russell’s) oats made 60 bu. — so the bins were full. Oats was 10 cents per bushel and yearling and two year old Herefords of good quality sold for $21– the government offered $20, but a good neighbor borrowed money from a Nebraska relative and gave us $21.00″

***

“Dear Wenzel Bros: I saw the notes in the (Alpena) Journal regarding the “Bad old Days” and thought you might be interested in my poem. My father was a mail carrier in Wessington Springs in the early 1900’s and live 2 1/2 miles east of Alpena in the ‘30’s. — Sincerely Harold Webber (June 11, 1988)

A first-hand account of

“South Dakota Life in the Dirty Thirties”

The early thirties brought drouth and dust storms. One of our family photographs is of my brother with one foot on top of a fence post and the other one on top of the ridge of dirt that had blown higher than the fence. On Armistice Day, 1930 or 1931, (I’m not sure which date), we ate noon dinner by the light of a kerosene lamp. Mother had set the table and we were ready to eat, but first I dusted the plates and dishes, so thick was the air filled with fine dust. It seemed to be everywhere. Years later in our part of the state, one could take a hammer, pound on house siding, and dust still filtered down.

One of the most heart-rending memories one can have is the pitiful sound of hungry cattle bellowing for food that wasn’t there, Often they could be heard during the night.

My parents, and other families, depended on gardens for vegetables and fruits, and it was sad when they could not raise good gardens or crops due to lack of rain. But neighbors encouraged one another, and “perhaps next year.,.” became an oft-spoken phrase. We were the most optimistic “next year” folks in the world. But all was not doom and gloom. Early in life our parents taught us to appreciate all the many blessings God bestowed upon us – our health; the ability to work efficiently and without complaining; the opportunities for a good education; our relatives, friends, and neighbors.

Even in adversity, and especially during the Depression, we never went hungry (even though Mother did not always have some of the things she would like to have provided for her little family of four). When lemons were expensive, or not available in our part of the country, she made us happy with Vinegar Pie, (Just in case you and your students may wish to try it, I am enclosing Mother’s recipe–happy eating). In later years when we could have Lemon Pie, remembering how wonderful her Vinegar Pie (recipe below-left on this page) was during the lean years, we sometimes asked for it.

And breakfasts were something to remember. Father ground our cornmeal, and during the winter we often had cornmeal mush with cream and sugar for supper, with enough left over to mold for breakfast. How good and crisp that was, with our own butter and home-made syrup Other breakfasts we enjoyed as much included the old- fashioned buckwheat pancakes – begun the night before.

My brother and I were happily growing up— at school, helping our parents, and with a pony, a dog, and cats for daily companions. The work, we did helped to mold and strengthen character. At school there was the annual basket social in the fall, preceded by a program. And a picnic on the last day of school in May’

There was little or no money for entertainment, but we did have a radio – an Atwater Kent with a big black horn. We enjoyed Fibber Magee and Molly, Amos and Andy, as well as musical and church programs. We had good books to read (there was a very good library in the town of Wessington Springs in Jerauld County, 14 miles north and west of us); the Bible; and Mother taught us to memorize many poems, such as Abou Ben Adhem, the Village Blacksmith, and others.

On quiet, cold winter evenings Father played mumbletypeg with us, and dominoes. And Mother avoided monotony by teaching us to learn all the United States in alphabetical order, with all the capitals. She also had us “match up” the names of places overseas that were the same in our country – for example, Stockholm, Sweden, and Stockholm, South Dakota; Bethlehem, Holy Land, and Bethlehem, Pennsylvania; Rome, Italy, and Rome, Georgia, and Rome, New York, and so on – a fun game for young and eager minds.

For Christmas we enjoyed home—made candies; and one year Father made and painted a pair of stilts for both of us children.

So the Depression years were not always bad for all people. True, they were discouraging at times, but we lived through them, and are the better for the experience.

Time does not permit my rambling on, but perhaps this will give you and your students some idea of what our life was in our home during the Depression.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Benjamin J. (A. Ruth) Larson

Editor’s note: Mrs. Larson lived along SD Highway 34 near the Jerauld/Sanborn County lines. She died several years ago after happily living to be quite old. She was a regular weekly contributor to the True Dakotan and would cheerfully walk through the newspaper’s front door with a small news item, stating: “This is just to let everyone know I’m still here.”

     Marvin Larson and “Teddy” stand atop a “dust fence” during the Great Depression near (Crow Lake) Wessington Springs, SD. Marvin died in 1986 and his sister, A. Ruth (Mrs. Ben J.) Larson died at her home between Woonsocket and Wessington Springs in the 1990s.

According to the July 25, 1974 Mitchell Daily Republic, the average July-1936 daily temperature was 103.4 degrees. The Mitchell area had 27 consecutive days of temperatures exceeding 90 degrees and 18 straight days with the mercury climbing past 100 degrees.

It turns out the area was having troubles once again in 1974 when highs ranged between 92 degrees and 106 degrees for 18 straight days (Juoly 6-23).\”Hot temperatures and little precipitation have made July an uncomfortable month for most of the areas. ?And it appears that the only relief to be found is in front of an air conditioner,” the Daily Republic reported. “Lack of precipitation has been another charactgeristic of July, 1974. Only 1.05 inches of rain have fallen since the first of the month, with the last rainfall of any amount being .66 on July 3.

(1930’s recipe submitted in 1988 by Mrs. Chas. W. Green - mentioned in Ruth Larson’s story this page)

3 T corn starch 3 large egg yolks 1 1/2 c. sugar

3 T. vinegar 2 T. butter 1 1/2 c. boiling water

3 egg whites ¼ t. cream of tartar

6 T. sugar ¼ t. lemon extract

1 t. lemon extract 8″ or 9″ pie shell (baked)

Mix corn starch and sugar; add vinegar and boiling water; cook over moderate heat, stirring constantly until thick and it boils. Boil 1 mm. Beat a little of the hot mixture into the egg yolks which have been beaten slightly, Add remaining hot mixture to the yolks; return to heat and boil 1 mm. longer, stirring constantly. Remove from heat; add butter and lemon extract. Pour into pie shell and cover with meringue:

Beat whites with cream of tartar until frothy. Gradually beat in sugar, a little at a time. Continue beating until stiff and glossy. Add meringue on filling, sealing edges well. Bake at 400 degrees for 10-15 minutes, or until a delicate brown, Serve when cool.

Some recipes I have seen for vinegar pie use ½ t. nutmeg and ½ t. allspice instead of the lemon extract, but we did not like it as well.

HAPPY EATING!

Weskota Manor Avera volunteer helps former teacher stay in touch with students

FORMER SCHOOL TEACHER KAREN (HEEZEN) FASTNACHT (center) is back in the education business, thanks to the generous assistance of a Weskota Manor Avera activity volunteer. When Karen’s teaching career ended due to injuries sustained in an automobile accident on August 14, 2007, she eventually became a resident at the local nursing home. Manor activity volunteer Loretta Couch (right) helped devise a project where the former school teacher corrects papers from the local elementary school. Corrected papers are completed with a sticker. When school is in session a “Mrs. Fastnacht’s Room” (front/left) completes the theme. When she is not doing volunteer work at the Manor, Loretta also works part time in the activities department. Also shown in the photo are Karen’s daughter, Michaela (left) and her husband Mike Fastnacht. Loretta and her husband, Rick Couch, a Springs-area native, moved here in 2008.

Photo by Duke Wenzel, taken during the KELO-Land TV interview

Karen was a teach of the year during her teaching years in Nebraska. She also taught school in Wessington Springs. She has a Master’s Degree in Education. The television interview can be seen on the KELO-Land TV website.

True Dakotan photo/Duke Wenzel -- The "contraption" that has provided the free ride up the sledding hill (looking downward... note the panoramic scene overlooking the prairie) for a couple of generations.

BY CRAIG WENZEL

TRUE DAKOTAN EDITOR

Remember this? Back in the 1950′s –when I was just a kid, REALLY– there was a local guy who did excavating and digging, building roads, earthen dams, and whatever else needed to be done. A.J. Gebhardt was a bit of a genius, actually, able to fabricate about anything you –or he– could imagine. So the Wessington Springs city park had this big hill that kids used for sledding in the wintertime, but A.J. –and probably some of the town council members– decided a rope lift would be good. And they were right. Once A.J. set his mind to it the rope lift would carry us kids back up the hill for another run.

It was the darnest contraption — a combination of old tire rims, an electric motor and a huge rope that strung around the various rims before heading down the poles on the face of the hill. It worked! And second and third generation kids are still using it today. There wasn’t enough snow on the hill until the Christmas blizzard dropped 20 inches on Wessington Springs and the rest of the county. So the city boys went to work to put the rope back up for kids to use again during the 2009-2010 winter. They were putting it up this week, but it turned out somebody helped themselves to one of the pulleys at the bottom –I know, can you believe they TOOK IT?– so they got stopped. It won’t be long, though, and they’ll have it fixed and ready for today’s area kids to enjoy, and to make childhood memories.

Do you have a memory of the Wessington Springs sledding hill, and/or “the rope” that used to give us a ride back up? Post it in the “comments” box below. We love hearing from you.

 BY CRAIG WENZEL – TRUE DAKOTAN EDITOR

I’ve always been ready for a sled ride down the big hill in the Springs city park, at least in the winter when there is sufficient snow on the ground. The Christmas blizzard that we had over the holiday was a tough one, but it did provide the basic needs for a fast ride on an aerodynamically designed piece of plastic.

Our three-and-a-half year old grandson Layne and his nine-month old baby sister, Londyn, stayed with us overnight after their parents, Matt and Amber, went back to Pierre.

Sunday seemed like the perfect day for sledding. A bunch of kids had already broken the trails and the snow was lightly packed, cold and fast.

Grandma Penny drove us to the top of the observation hill that overlooks the town.

Layne had second thoughts after we stepped out of the pickup and gazed down the slope. He was looking over his shoulder to find Grandma, who had already headed back down.

I wasn’t sure how Layne would react to break-neck speed down the face of the hill so the first run was restricted with my boots sticking out on either side .

“Whee, I wanna do this again!” he exclaimed about halfway down.

Grandma took pictures and some video and we went back up the hill for more.

This time I let the stops out a little bit and the snow came flying back in our faces. “Wow, this is fun,” I thought to myself, remembering my boyhood days when a runner sled provided the propulsion down the hill and the rope/pulley system that A..J. Gebhart designed in the 1950’s would pull you back up again. “Wonder Boy” thought differently. It occurred to me later: “He IS just three years old!”

Happy and red-faced we headed back home where the promise of hot chocolate was waiting for us.

While Grandma Penny was inside stirring up a treat, Layne and I investigated a four-foot snow drift in our front yard.

The big drift tapered back slowly and evenly across the yard. “C’mere Layne,” I said., putting the plastic sled atop the snow drift.

I carefully plopped “Wonder Boy” onto the craft, and after he dramatically counted, “One, two three- Go!” I gave him a shove that started him across the snow-covered lawn. It was a nice, smooth trip… no snow in the face, no excessive speed. Now we’re talkin’!

The boy gleefully came running back, sled rope clutched in a little mittened hand, and exclaimed, “I wanna do it again!” We did it again, alright…. and again, and again, stopping only to wipe an occasional running nose (mine and his) and to make snow angels (Layne, not me).

"King of the North Pole"

About the time we finished, he crawled atop the big drift one more time, put his arms in the air, and proclaimed, “I am the king of the North Pole!”

It was an incredible winter afternoon outing. And you know what? It proved to me that you don’t have to spend a lot of money on fancy vacations or expensive presents. Something wonderful might be waiting just outside your door.

The little red, brick school house. Located in Jerauld County about eight miles south of Alpena.

G. Marvin Powell, Wessington Springs, was one of the South Dakota veterans to fly to Washington, D.C. with the SouthDakota Honor Flight to see the national World War II Veterans’ Memorial. He was accompanied by his daughter, Nadene, Sioux Falls. They are shown above in a photo taken from television coverage of the event. G. Marvin, a resident at Weskota Manor Avera in Wessington Springs, also enjoyed a Veterans Day program at the manor that was presented by the local VFW post.