#today we're talking about the Children's Blizzard of 1888

[merciedblood]

January 12, 1888                                Current home: Pawnee, Nebraska 

It was so warm this morning. I just can’t stop thinking about it. 

Warm is a relative term here in the plains winters- but for the children who have been born and raised here, it was almost balmy. I spent the morning cleaning out my office. Restocking supplies for patients and airing out the rugs. It seemed like that’s what most people were doing- taking advantage of the good weather. There’s a lot of farms around here. I horse ride to most of my patients house visits, but it’s still a good community. The distance is only that, a bit of distance, their hearts are so intertwined. I like that in them.

And that makes this all the worse. 

It was so warm. 

I don’t even know how to explain what happened. It was so fast. It sounds crazy to explain to anyone who wasn’t here when it happened. It sounded like an explosion shook through the sky. I’ve never heard anything like it. And the temperature dropped so fast. 

I’ve lived here for five years now, and I haven’t felt cold like this. It’s a brittle, piercing thing that wants to consume everything it touches. It’s only getting WORSE. And I don’t understand how that can be.

I was already back inside when it hit. I did everything in the morning and I was just making some tea and making notes about upcoming children’s wellness home check ups when the noise tore through in the afternoon. I remember seeing the thermometer saying it was a few degrees above freezing when I came inside. The snow had even been melting......it was -5f in minutes. It just kept dropping, and dropping. 

And that’s when the sickening realization hit of just what time it was. The two nearby school houses would have just been getting out when the storm hit. If they hadn’t already left their two teachers would be left with an impossible choice: brave storm to get help, and hope you didn’t get lost in the 0 visibility, or, stay in the schoolhouse and hope you wouldn’t freeze to death inside. 

It was so warm this morning. 

To the children born and raised here, they didn’t wear their usual layers. Many only had left with their lighter coats. I saw the Peterson girl taking her younger brothers and the neighbor Freedman boys to school that morning. She had waved so excitedly. None of them are older than nine. None of them prepared for this. I don’t know if I should even dare to hope that they’re okay. 

The waiting is the worst part. There’s not the infrastructure here that the cities have. No telephones. We all just have to wait out the storm. I still don’t know what my relationship with God is after all this time, but for the first time in a long time I think I just mumbled to wind. 

It’s dark. It’s still raging outside. I can’t sleep. I imagine no one here is tonight. 

Tomorrow, if it’s clear, the parents will start looking for survivors. If those kids survive the night it will be more than a miracle and I will still have my work cut out for me. I can’t bring back what’s dead. 

#//hello welcome to Rosie gives you history lessons via her immortal bby #today we're talking about the Children's Blizzard of 1888 #this got long but like I am NOT sorry #;pages out of my memories { DIARY }