Think it’s been cold and gross this week? Imagine being a Kansas pioneer during the blizzard of 1886.
In early January, just weeks before Kansas’ 25th birthday, the state was blasted by a snowstorm the likes of which no one had ever seen.
Temperatures dropped to 30 degrees below zero in places, and many had little more than a cheaply-built cabin with a fireplace to keep warm.
Reports circulated that people had become lost only yards away from their homes, and according to the Kansas Historical Society, “nearly 100 Kansans froze to death during the storm.”
The Topeka Daily Capital reported “people died within feet of their own homes, which were obscured by snow, men and women froze to death along with their horses, and people received frostbitten limbs that had to be amputated.”
Along with the human toll, train travel was brought to a halt, with railcars blocked by snow drifts or frozen solid to the tracks (often while full of frozen livestock).
And cattle were killed by the tens of thousands, with perhaps as much as 75% of the state’s entire herd population perishing in the icy maelstrom.
Moreover, “the cattle weren’t the only animals to die: rabbits, antelope, birds and other animals froze to death all over the prairie. They were found frozen solid, huddled together to try to keep warm.”
The frigid devastation was total.
DESPITE the epic nature of the 1886 storm, perusal of the Register archives revealed that residents largely seemed to take such things in stride.
Perhaps it’s true people really were tougher back then.
In an editorial note, publisher Charles F. Scott somewhat humorously blamed the Dakotas for the trouble, writing that “the blizzard Monday came from Dacotah as usual. If it wasn’t for Dacotah, Kansas could plow and plant the year around.”
And indeed, one local casualty of the blizzard was the local wheat crop.
Scott also took the opportunity to give his readers a hard time, noting “Yes, we know that last week’s Register said 1885 on the outside. We left it that way on purpose just to see how many people would notice it. … One man who discovered it on Sunday, drove into town fourteen miles against the blizzard to point it out to us.”
A week later, someone reported from Elsmore that temperatures had dipped to at least -18, even during the day, and the teacher at Rocket schoolhouse was unable to return home due to the whiteout.
Does this mean the school “marm” and his students were still trying to meet regularly? Walking multiple miles— uphill both ways—in the snow as those from an earlier generation often claim?
Another section of the paper mentioned that Iola High School cancelled classes, not from the difficulty in attending, but because “the room was too cold for use.”
