Dust Storm on the Family Farm
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I don't recall our supper that night. I know I asked the folks how long the storm would last and they said, "Until the wind dies down." I wanted to go to bed, but the dust was so thick on the comforter that you could hardly see the pattern of the pieces. Where could you take it to shake it out? There was more dust outside where this had come from. We removed the top quilts and tried to sleep, but each time we moved a cloud of dust would strangle us.
This dust storm, my first, began at about 11 a.m. and continued unabated until around 6 a.m. the next day. When the skies finally cleared we saw drifts all around the farm buildings. Father had to shovel the dirt away from the back door where it had drifted up on it. We began to clean house and shake out bedding but we certainly realized fast that one going over could not clean it completely. In later storms the fence rows filled so cattle could walk right over the top.
Eunice Hoien Dahlgren
Sweet Home, Oregon
Back in 1955 a call went out from the editors of the then Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My Folks title – My Folks Came in a Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to make those stories available to our growing online community.
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