Tag Archives: Dust Bowl

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Looking more like Dust Bowl

As I write these few words, the sky is looking browner than I remember it ever looking … ever.

I’ll admit I’ve lived in the Texas Panhandle a mere 19 years and four months. My history here isn’t as long as many folks’ time on the High Plains. My wife and I do have enough of an institutional memory, though, to call ourselves fairly experienced in this region’s sometimes-strange weather.

Today it’s about as “strange” as it’s gotten during our time here.

The wind is blowing at a sustained 30 mph. It’s gusting to around 60 mph.

I sat this morning waiting for a friend to show up for a cup of coffee. I sat at a coffee shop literally at the edge of the city. The wind started to kick up and as I looked toward the southwest, across a large stretch of pasture, I watched the dirt begin to billow into the sky.

Then it rolled in atop us at the coffee shop.

And then — all at once — about a dozen cell phones began buzzing “storm alert” warnings … mine included. A collective laugh went up from the room. “No kidding. Dust storm? Who knew?” one woman muttered.

I won’t pretend to know what the Dust Bowl was like. I’ve read about, heard stories about it, seen documentary films about it. The pictures are hideous. The stories of suffering, hardship and death are even more so.

Still, the weather today is beginning to look a lot like those pictures.

When is this going to end?

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Is it windier and dryer than ever?

A particular sentiment seems to be creeping into more Texas Panhandle residents’ conversation.

It is that the wind and the dirt that is blowing through the air is “the worst I’ve ever seen” in the Panhandle.

I heard it yet again this morning at church from a 60-something friend who’s lived here all her life. Others have made similar statements to me for the past several weeks as the wind just won’t relent.

Here and there folks are suggesting the wind that’s howling and the dirt that’s filling the air remind them of the bad old Dust Bowl days.

I won’t go that far. First of all, the Dust Bowl occurred 70-plus years ago. Second of all, the footage I’ve seen of events such as Black Sunday defy description.

Setting all that aside for a moment, let’s just consider that we’re likely in for a prolonged dry spell. Weather forecasters aren’t giving us much reason to believe a radical change in the weather is coming soon.

We’re in the grip of a drought that’s entering its fourth year. We had a slight break in 2012 from the lack of rainfall. So far this year, our precipitation level is about a third of what it’s supposed to be. Our winter snowfall was a good bit below normal. Lake levels are receding, streams are dry and grass used to feed our cattle is hard to find. Thus, ranchers are selling their cattle under weight because they cannot afford the high cost of grain to keep them fed.

It’s a mess out there.

What’s the lesson here? Two things come to mind.

First, we need to stop worrying about the wind, suck on some throat lozenges and perhaps say a prayer for more rain. Does prayer work? Well, someone has to prove to me it doesn’t. Absent that proof, I’ll keep asking for some divine intervention.

Second, cities need to start talking more proactively about water conservation. Amarillo is beginning such a conversation, but officials are saying mandatory restrictions aren’t yet on the table. I’m not so sure that’s necessarily a wise course to take in light of this drought. City Hall needs to start talking loudly and often about the need to conserve water and it ought to prepare immediately to enact a mandatory plan if we don’t get relief in, say, the next 30 days.

Meanwhile, batten everything down, folks.

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This isn't the Dust Bowl, but …

I cannot even pretend to understand what Texas and Oklahoma Panhandle residents endured in the 1930s when the Dust Bowl blew their livelihoods away — and killed many folks in the process.

However, the dust that has been blowing the past few days is getting very tiresome and more than a bit worrisome.

Today was another one of those days when the dust blew in from the north and west over much of West Texas. The Weather Channel led with it on its early-evening newscast, replacing the late-winter snow storm that is pounding the East Coast.

How does this condition ever end?

Well, let’s look at the obvious solution: Rain needs to fall. A lot of rain would be good.

Two and a half months into 2014 and our rainfall deficit is beginning to look grim. We’re about half of where we need to be a this point in the year, according to the National Weather Service. The March winds that are well-known to us here in the Texas Panhandle have kicked in and the topsoil that hasn’t been dampened is being lifted into the air and taken to God knows where.

There might be some good news in the offing. I was visiting the other day with a water conservation district official who told me he understands there’s a “48 percent chance that El Nino will return this spring.” That means we’ve got a nearly one in two chance that the Pacific Ocean currents will bring more moisture inland, which is what the El Nino current usually does.

Of course that also means that we’ve got about the same likelihood of either the conditions staying the same or the La Nina current will take over, meaning even drier-than-normal conditions will prevail over the region.

Those of us who weren’t around during the Dust Bowl do not really grasp what the region’s older residents went through more than seven decades ago. The survivors of that terrible time no doubt remember how it used to be and may be shrugging their shoulders at what’s occurring today.

We all have a common desire. We need rain. Now!

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Big wind conjures up grim images

Whenever the wind blows hard across the Texas Panhandle — as it is doing today — a new set of images pops into my mind.

I think of the Dust Bowl. These are images that didn’t enter my mind until we moved here 19 years ago.

Some of my friends here actually remember the Dust Bowl. It occurred over the span of about eight years starting around 1933. It’s been called history’s worst manmade disaster. It was a beaut.

Two things happened simultaneously during that time: The wind started to blow and the rain stopped falling. It produced a condition across several states that was worsened by some of the most incredibly bad farming practices known to man. Humans settled here and decided to plow up native grasslands to plant crops, such as wheat and corn.

I guess no one told them back then about the reason God put the grass here in the first place: It was to keep the dirt in place while the wind blew. Without the grass roots dug deep into the dirt, the top soil would blow away.

Then the wind came — and seemingly never left. It blew and blew. And the rain? Well, it didn’t come in amounts sufficient to dampen the soil to keep it from blowing away.

Eventually, state and federal agriculture experts would introduce plowing techniques that would minimize the top soil loss. Those grasslands would be restored, never to be upset again by people who learned a terrible lesson in land management.

It all happened right here in the Texas and Oklahoma panhandles, in Kansas, eastern New Mexico and eastern Colorado, as well as in Nebraska.

The suffering among the residents was unfathomable. “Dust pneumonia” killed the very young and the very old. People’s livelihoods literally were blown into the next state. Livestock starved to death. Farmers and ranchers who couldn’t make a living packed up everything they owned and moved out as quickly as they could.

Those who stayed became living testaments to raw courage.

Many of them have remained. They are old now. Some might have some short-term memory issues, but I’m quite certain many of them recall vividly how it was to grow up in the hell that came over this land.

I wonder how they must feel whenever they see the wind blow as it is today. Do they shrug? Do they laugh it off? Do they cringe at the horrible memory of what happened in the old days?

Whatever their reaction, I am humbled to live among them today.