Historic New York Winters

Being a lifelong New York Yankee, (no not a baseball team player, but a bonafide citizen) has made me a lover of winter and that dreaded four letter word, S N O W. Perhaps part of that comes from my maiden name, Talvi, which means winter in the Finnish language. Whatever the reason, I always get a thrill when I hear a snowstorm is on the way. It stands to reason that winter has created some pretty amazing history in my home state. New York boasts historic blizzards, a century old winter festival, even one of the most photographed and toured Christmas/winter destinations in the world. 

The Great Blizzard holds infamy as the one of the worst, longest, and most deadly snowstorms on record, and spanned several Northeastern states. Between March 10 and 14, 1888 a powerful system carrying moisture moved up the east coast, meeting with an Arctic blast moving down from Canada. Heavy rains turned to a colossal snowstorm--one for the record books. New York saw the deepest snowfall levels, recorded in Troy and Saratoga, each measuring over 50 inches. The system, also called The Great White Hurricane, brought formidable winds. In New York City,  40-plus mile an hour sustained blowing, with gusts recorded at over 70 miles per hour, created drifts in places over 50 feet high, covering three story houses and virtually shutting the metropolis down for over a week. 

400 people lost their lives to this storm, over 200 in New York City alone. But it brought about much needed change at a time that defined technological advances and modernization. Elevated trains that had been paralyzed in the aftermath of the storm were thereafter designed to run underground where ice couldn't derail or snow piles impede. Gas, telephone, and telegraph lines knocked down in the storm took weeks to restore. With growing populations increasingly dependent on these utilities, their infrastructure went subterranean as well. 

A decade later, a happier story evolved at Saranac Lake in the Adirondacks. The longest running winter carnival on the east coast had its beginnings in this logging community where a tuberculosis clinic brought sufferers flocking to seek cure in the cool, pristine climate. Local winter activity enthusiasts formed the Pontiac Club, to celebrate the area's perfect setup for skiing, skating, snowshoeing, hockey, and sledding during the long winter months. In February of 1897 a one-day winter festival was held, with attendees decked out in formal wear. Subsequent carnivals commenced on odd years, their duration longer, and activities broadened to include the annual building of the Ice Palace and nomination of its Ice King and Queen, community fireworks, parades, sports activities and competitions, theater, and a button exchange. 

But perhaps New York's most famous winter scene, depicted in movies such as Elf and Home Alone 2, is the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree and skating rink. The first Rockefeller Center tree was erected by construction workers building Rockefeller Center in 1931. It was a small and informal tree, decorated with simple Depression-era paper garlands and popcorn strings. Two years later, the official tradition kicked off, with a grand 50-foot tree resplendent with electric lights. On completion of Rockefeller Center, a skating rink adorned the plaza below the tree in 1936. 

Photo by Magda Ehlers from Pexels

Interesting trivia about the Rockefeller Center tree: 

• During WWII and after the attack on the World Trade Center, decorations featured patriotic colors and themes. In fact, durung the war three smaller trees stood in place of one large one, each festooned in red, white, or blue respectively. And because of mandatory blackouts, the trees held no lights from 1944-5.
• The tree lighting was first televised in 1951.
• 1971 the tree was first mulched and used for nature trails in upper Manhattan.
• eco-friendly LED lights were first used in 2007
• 2007 the tree lumber was first milled and donated to Habitat for Humanity.

❆❅❄❆ What are some of your most prominent winter memories? Maybe where you live, snow is a rare occurrence. Do you have a favorite movie or historic event that involves winter or snow scenes? Would love to hear about it!

Kathleen L. Maher has had an infatuation with books and fictional heroes ever since her preschool crush, Peter Rabbit. She had a novella in BARBOUR's 2018 Victorian Christmas Brides Collection, featuring her hometown of Elmira, New York. She won the 2012 ACFW Genesis contest for her Civil War story, which released this past summer under a new title The Abolitionist’s Daughter. Look for upcoming releases in 2019, including another Barbour collection, Lessons in Love, set to release in October. Kathleen shares an old farmhouse in upstate New York with her husband, children, and a small zoo of rescued animals.

Follow Kathleen on Facebook,  Twitter and  Amazon

The Blizzard of 1888

A footnote from history by Stephanie Grace Whitson

With the end of WW II, a group of Nebraska survivors

were finally able to complete a project that had been delayed by the war. All were members of "The January 12 1888 Blizzard Club," and they had stories to tell. The result of their efforts, the book at right, makes for inspirational (and sometimes terrifying) reading.

The Blizzard of January 12, 1888, was a unique event because of the unusual and subsequently deadly combination of gale winds, blinding snow, and an extremely rapid drop in temperature. The cold front that dropped out of Canada that day moved in at a rate of 45 mph. 

The January day started out unseasonably warm by prairie standards, and many children went to school without coats or gloves. One survivor remembered, "At recess, we were all out playing in our shirt sleeves, without hats or mittens. Suddenly we looked up and saw something coming rolling toward us with great fury from the northwest, and making a loud noise. It looked like a long string of big bales of cotton about twenty-five feet high ... and above them it was perfectly clear." The sight terrified some of the children, and when the teacher heard screams, she came outside to investigate. One look to the northwest and she hurried the children inside. The last student had just gotten inside the building when the storm struck. "It hit the building with such force that it nearly moved it off its cobble-stone foundation."

The blizzard is often called "the children's blizzard," because it struck during school hours and trapped hundreds of children with their teachers--many of them barely adults themselves--all across Dakota Territory and Nebraska.  Minnie Freeman led her 16 pupils to safety and was lauded as a heroine. Today, a mural at the Capitol Building in Lincoln, Nebraska, honors her. See it here:
http://curriculum.nebraskavirtualcapitol.org/foyer-building-nebraska-and-civil-responsibility/prairie-disasters/

Another 17-year-old teacher managed to get her students to safety but then got lost herself trying to reach home. She took shelter huddled among the animals in a shed, "but her poor feet could not be saved." In spite of her tragic experience, "Miss Kent lived a normal and helpful life."

Survivors remembered:

"My brother was only three feet from me ... but the snow was so thick I could not see him."

" ... we came in looking like snowballs. The snow had blown right through our clothes."

"If we opened the door and put our hands out we could not see our hands. It was like shoving a hand and arm into a solid snow wall."

"The teacher brought in fuel by tying a cord to the door knob and fastening the other end on himself."

"The force of the storm grew greater as night settled down and it seemed at times as though a giant hand was lifting the building from its foundation. The  roof seemed likely to be torn off."

"The passenger train froze on the track and was drifted over. They did not get out for two days. Some of the town people made coffee and took food to passengers ... Mother Blakewell, as we called her, ran the hotel and J.S. Wilkins a boarding house and they furnished coffee and food free, as did many others."

In the aftermath of the blizzard:

"The morning of the 13th was clear and cold. I have never in my life seen such

Photo: Wikipedia Commons Public Domain

sundogs ... there were drifts twenty to thirty feet high and as hard as stone."

"Eight large steers were found standing in a clump of weeds and willows, suffocated and frozen."

"The creek channel was eighteen to twenty feet deep and fifty feet across. It was so packed with snow, hard as concrete, that this herd of cattle and four horsemen passed safely across the level channel which sustained them as readily as it if were indeed concrete, leaving only the marks of their hoofs on the packed and frozen snow." 

"We learned that while nature is bountiful and kind at times it is cruel and destructive. We also learned that we cannot live by our own efforts alone."

"Mr. H___ caught my attention to the discoloration of his left cheek, caused by being frozen while carrying in coal."

"It took ten days to dig out the tracks from Lincoln to Grand Island." 

"For years afterward at gatherings of any size in Nebraska, there would always be people walking on wooden legs or holding fingerless hands behind their backs or hiding missing ears under hats."

William Saxton (third from left in the photo) was on his way to get a load of hay when the storm struck. After wandering a bit, he located the haystack and burrowed in. "I had my dog with me and he and I crawled in that hole." He spent the night trying to keep from freezing. Imagine his mother's reaction when the dog arrived home ... alone! The family found William, but the doctor "had to take off part of all my fingers. I was sixteen years old ... I learned to use my crippled hands. My souvenir of the big blizzard has not been as great a handicap as one might imagine."

Reading about the real people who not only survived but also thrived in the aftermath of profound challenges is one of the things that draws me to the past. It gives me perspective on my own troubles. 

The memoirs of survivors helped me write about Carrie Brown's experience as a teacher trying to see her students to safety through a Nebraska blizzard. With the words of of those who shared their real experiences in the Blizzard of '88 fresh in my mind, I wrote: "Suddenly a terrific wind crashed through the osage hedge on the west side of the road, scooping up snow off the ground and swirling it in the air. It was as if a great white curtain had been dropped over the road ... They were lost in a thick, enveloping whiteness, a cloud of vapor that shut Carrie off from everything around her." 

What about you? 

Have you survived a natural disaster? 

What life-changing lessons did you learn?

In Red Bird, Book 3 in the Prairie Winds series, Carrie Brown survives her Blizzard of '88 ordeal, but not without suffering some life-changing consequences. 


Find her story here: https://www.amazon.com/Red-Bird-Prairie-Winds-3/dp/1973710439/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1520376878&sr=8-1