TIP # 421 KENTUCKY SNOWSTORM As I look out the window there is a little bit of snow remains on the ground, left over from a storm late last week. More is predicted, but most of Kentucky doesn't suffer from a lot of the big snows of the past. While reading the old newspapers, there seems there used to be a lot more snow than there is today. I love snow - but now, older than I was ... only on Christmas eve and Christmas Day! But while watching the weather reports from around other parts of the United States, I began thinking of how the early settlers coped with the snow. We see reports of people going for over a week without power in North Carolina, and of traffic snarled on slick roads. What did the pioneers do? Go back in your mind to Christmas 1792. Kentucky was a fledgling state - the Commonwealth of Kentucky - oh, that sounded so wonderful to the early pioneers. They had staked out their land, built some sort of a cabin, fought off the Indian attacks, and brought their families from Virginia, the Carolinas, Pennsylvania; all to this wonderful state called the Kentucky. The state was changing ever so slowly from being the land of blood to the land of peace. Rich soil, beautiful streams, every sort of wildlife imaginable fired the passion in the souls of those early brave men, women and children. The crops of spring and summer had outdone themselves in production. The soft breezes, the sound of the coyote in the distance, the magnitude of the stars overhead; all held promise of a glorious life. As the whispering leaves began to change into their fall wardrobes of gold, red and brown, the husband knew that the days were getting shorter and that he would have to lay in a supply of firewood, meat and provisions for the coming winter months. As evenings began to come earlier, he hurried his pace even more. Chopping wood which seemed like it would take an eternity until his shoulders and back ached so he could no longer lift the axe over his head. He finished the storage area for the crops, normally built into a hillside or in a sheltered place if possible, with the door opening in so the snow piles would not keep him from getting to the food their family would need. Potatoes, beans, preserves, hams, beef, anything to tide them over. Next he had to check on the livestock if he had been fortunate enough to have a small herd of cattle, pigs, chickens, geese along with his horses and oxen, dogs and cats. He asked himself if he had harvested enough hay to last the winter - and he remembered the hours spent in the open fields with a sythe, swinging it back and forth in the hot sun. Oh, to have some of that warmth now! The hay had been piled in high stacks, row after row in the animal shelter and he checked to see that there was room for all the livestock and provisions to keep them alive through the long winter months. Water. He'd have to rely on the spring down the hill for that, the spring shouldn't freeze over but he'd had to make trip after trip up and down that hill to furnish enough water for his family as well as his animals. Inside the cabin, the wife was working furiously at getting preparations made too. She made extra of everything and found little cubby holes to store food stuffs in. Her fingers were becoming calloused - she had helped swing that axe too, and had been busy at the spinning wheel trying to get warmer winter clothes for the children. They normally went barefoot but now they needed shoes for the winter. Before the days became too short, they would walk or ride to the mercantile, a 10 mile journey perhaps. If they didn't have the money to buy the remaining goods they needed, they would barter or run a charge account. The wife carefully looked over the shelves knowing how much she could spend to the penny. Sugar, salt, perhaps a little molasses, a patent medicine if she didn't know how to make her own medicine. Hmmm... just enough for a spool of thread and some jeans material. Fresh fruit - how wonderful that sounded, but the cost of just one apple would take the rest of her money; it had been shipped for many miles and the cost driven up with each mile. Maybe she could afford 4 apples for a Christmas treat. Then, in the middle of the night, the snows came. The winds were so strong that the father could barely push against it to get outside to care for the animals in the morning. Everything was white, everything looked alike as he tried to find his way to the barn. Water, they needed water. As he slipped and slid to the spring, he might make the awful discovery that the spring had indeed frozen. Chopping away at ice, he climbed and fell until he reached the barn again - trip after trip. Then the family. The children were so excited, not noticing the cold like the parents did. Cheerfully sticking red noses out the door, they wanted to play, but the father knew that they could not go out in weather like this. The window, only one in the cabin, had been covered with old cloth, they hadn't gotten this window glass that some people were raving about. The winds blew so hard that the mother had to stand by the window and hold it down. She was rushing back and forth to keep the fire going and told the father that they must have more logs for the fire. The baby's crib was moved closer to the fire, she was so young and couldn't take this cold. They had shoved their own straw mattress over as close as they could without letting it catch on fire from an ember from the fireplace. And the snows came. Day after day without reprieve. The livestock was suffering; he'd found a couple of the chickens frozen in the corner the day before. They had stopped laying eggs totally. Carefully, he gathered up what geese and chickens he could, trip after trip, and brought them into the warmth of the cabin - if warmth is what it could be called. He made a little nest in the corner for them and the fowl settled in contentedly. But he couldn't lose his horses; he needed them to ride. And the few cows were getting scrawnier and mooed almost constantly - he could hear them above the howling winds. The calf was gone by next morning, frozen as it lay next to it's starving mother. "Lord," he prayed, "we're not going to make it if the snows don't stop, please stop the snows." By morning, the sun was glistening on the snow, piled in places as high as the roof of the cabin. Sunshine! A little dripping could be heard from the roof as the icicles relaxed and started thawing. A moo was heard from the barn, but it was not the plaintive crying of previous days. It was a restless mooing of a cow who had been cooped up way too long. Day by day, the snows decreased on the ground and the little gurgling of the spring could be heard between the delighted giggles of the children who had rushed outside to play in the snow. They had made it, the firewood had held, the food supplies were still plentiful. But as the mother and father stood in the doorway they knew that this was only December. December 25th and they shared those precious apples. Merry Christmas friends! Sandi (c) Copyright Sandra K. Gorin, 19 December 2002, All Rights Reserved. sgorin@glasgow-ky.com Col. Sandi Gorin Publishing: http://ggpublishing.tripod.com/ GORIN worldconnect website: http://worldconnect.rootsweb.com/~sgorin SCKY resource links: http://www.public.asu.edu/~moore/Gorin.html