Railroaders' Nostalgia > Armistice Day Blizzard, 75 years ago in Upper Midwest

While I missed this post on the actual day,what we now call Veteran's Day, seventy-five years ago on November 11, 1940, one of the worst, if not the worst
storm to hit the Upper Midwest (Minnesota, Wisconsin) struck with a vengeance.  Over one hundred fifty people died in the massive storm.  Here is a
short story of how a railroader saved some lives by getting the message of the upcoming storm to others:
          The day dawned unusually warm for a November day in Minnesota.   Temperatures were in the upper fifties and a fine mist filled the air.  Jim Sullivan
(my great-grandfather) went to work, planning to do the normal day of track work on his section at Lewiston.  Jim's daughter, a school teacher from
Minneapolis had arrived by car at her parents home on Friday evening to spend the weekend and the Monday holiday at "home".  
         Jim went to work early, to start the day at 6 AM. to get a line-up, and materials they would need for the day on the railroad.   All the rails remarked
at how unusual the weather was.   By 10 AM, the operator at Lewiston told the section crew at the depot to clear the way-freight, that a major storm
had started to move east.  Telegraphers in western Minnesota were reporting high winds and falling temperatures.   Snow was falling with intensity
in cities like New Ulm and Mankato. 
       Because his daughter was planning to drive back to Minneapolis, Jim called his home and got his daughter on the phone. "Killarney (his daughter's
nickname), there's a big storm comin'. I think ya better get on the road right away.  The temperature here has dropped nearly fifteen degrees
in the last twenty minutes.   Don't ya be drivin' cross the prairie to Rochester, there's high winds and snow on the way.  Take the river road (US 61)
north from Minnesota City.  The bluffs will give ya some coverage, and if ya get in trouble.  Leave the car at one of the Milwaukee depots, tell 'em
I'm your dad and I work for North Western.  They'll let ya do that, and take the train back to Minneapolis.  You ought to make it that way.  I don't
want ya on the prairie and have ya get stuck and freeze to death."   Beatrice (Killarney), as usual, told her dad she would comply with his order.
She would  get underway as soon as possible.
     Jim told the telegraph operator at Lewiston to alert local authorities, and the other operators in the area, to let as many as possible to
know of the upcoming blizzard.  In a small community such as Lewiston, word like that spread like wildfire on the party-line phones.
     Beatrice, with her passengers (students from the University of Minnesota who were also visiting family on the three-day weekend) headed
down the hill to Stockton, taking the county road paralleling the North Western tracks to Minnesota City where they would get onto US #61
for the scenic ride along the bluffs to Minneapolis.   Soon after getting onto the river road, things began to change, the temperature was
plummeting, and snow was beginning to fall.  By the time the travelers reached Wabasha, conditions were becoming very bad, and
deep snow and wind were making car travel difficult.  Listening to her father, Beatrice decided to leave her car at Lake City, MN and
take the next train to the Twin Cities.  It was a great decision that may have saved their lives.  They boarded the afternoon train to
Minneapolis.  Their ride would not be a long one.  North of Red Wing, Minnesota, on the prairie island where a nuclear power plant
and casino now stand, the train would run into deep drifts and would be forced to stop.  The engineer, for the next day, would be
forced to move slowly back-and-forth in an attempt to keep the train from freezing down.  Gray water from the train and build up
of waste water from track dump toilets at below zero temperatures could cause such a freeze down. This was a good move, since backing
to Red Wing was now impossible, drifts now had covered the tracks behind the train to a depth that made it impossible to move much.
      Beatrice and her passengers, along with all the others on the train, would be forced to stay put. The train was warm despite the
fact that the outside temperatures were now in the single digits ( and would get to single digits BELOW zero by the next morning).
There was a diner on the train, and food supplies, though not abundant, were adequate to keep the passengers fed.  The
train would be freed on Tuesday afternoon after the storm subsided.
      Unknown to those on the train, more than one hundred-fifty duck hunters and motorists would lose their lives to this storm
of great intensity.   The duck hunters were forced to take shelter under their boats and to build fires to stay warm.  On Tuesday,
food was dropped to them by a local "barnstormer" airman from Winona.
     Listening to the alert by railroaders no doubt saved my great aunt's life.  She would go back to get her car on Friday, taking
the train to Lake City and going back to Lewiston.  She and her passengers had dodged death because of railroaders who
cared. Incidentally, the weather service added addtional locations for observers in the Upper Midwest following this storm.
Beatrice led a great life, retiring from teaching at 65, then part-time teaching another seven years before becoming a real estate
agent selling condos until she was 91. (She was highly successful - who wouldn't buy from an articulate "grandma-type"?)
She passed away at 95 years of age, fifty-seven years after the Armistice Day Blizzard.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 11/15/15 10:33 by SR2.

Great story.  Thanks.

Wow. I had never heard of that storm before. Glad your ancestors had good sense!

Rebecca Morgan
Jacobsburg, OH

Very interesting story. Good that your great-grandfather had a sense for weather events.
If readers are interested, the storm is well documented at a number of websites including Wikipedia.
ALLEN

Wow, what a great story, and to have such close connection to it through your family.  Seventy five years ago you could catch a train in most towns.  Not an option today.  That's a shame but as a nation we depend on our cars or we don't want to spend two or three days traveling cross country.  Have to be there today!

Thanks for sharing.  Really enjoyed it.

John

PS.  Before I hit the send button I just wanted to thank everyone on this nostalgia discussion.  Just about every story is interesting an well written.  Thanks to everyone that contributes.

The same storm wreaked havoc on Lake Michigan shipping, taking something like 5 ships and 66 lives.  Here's a good read about the demise of one particular vessel:  http://michiganshipwrecks.org/shipwrecks-2/shipwreck-categories/shipwrecks-found/anna-c-minch

Wonder if southern Minnesota will experience below zero temperatures in November ever again.

Best regards,

Rob L.

      Yes, we have experienced sub-zero temperatures in November several times since.
As a former Emergency Medical Technician, I responded to one fatality several
years ago with a similar temperature drop. It was in the fifties in the afternoon
and the temperature at the time of the call late evening was -9. An elderly man had
gone missing while trapping in a valley near a bridge.   I had to rappel down 150 or so
feet to a trout stream in a narrow valley to get a hypothermia victim onto a stretcher
and back to the top of a bridge with the assistance of two state patrol cars pulling
ropes attached to the stretcher. The man was trasnported to the hospital where he
died from the hypothermic condition. 
     Incidentally, we had a thirty degree drop overnight, from about 53 to 23 this morning.
Not as dramatic as Armistice Day 1940 (and no snow this time), but a wake-up call
none-the-less.  We are still under a high wind advisory as I write this.

SR2 ---
That is a very very interesting story, and very
well-written.  Your family had a lot to be proud
of.  As a Californian, I cannot even imagine
being out in weather like that!  THANK you for
all your work as an EMT!