Dick Hunt's Blog

November 9, 2010

A Hail Storm and a Mad Race

Filed under: Current — Dick Hunt's Blog @ 10:16 pm

A Hail Storm and a Mad Race
November, 9th, 2010 by Dick Hunt.
One of the really violent storms of the early thirties blew in around four in  the afternoon.  The whole Haying Crew were out in the hayfield a mile north west of the Ranch House.  There were eight of us with six teams of horses.  I was 12 years of age and was the stack builder.  We were just about finished the third stack of the day when the nasty black cloud appeared in the northwest. We hurried to get the stack “topped off” to make it shed water when the storm was upon us.  The crew got me down from the stack, unhooked all but one team of horses and let them go it alone. The other team was quickly hooked to the lumber wagon, we all piled into it and Dad gave the team their heads  and at full gallop we raced for home, hanging on for dear life.  In moments we were soaked to the skin, trying to keep warm with whatever we could find. The storm was like being in hails of bullets.
When we drove into the barnyard, Dad drove right up to the large barn door, one of the men jumped to the ground and opened the door and we were in the shelter of the barn in  a moment.  The loose horses were right behind us, having followed the wagon right to the barn. We were home, wet , cold, but safe.  Mother was in the house, not knowing where we were.  No way of contacting her until the storm was over. No cell phones in those days.  In fact, no phones at all.  No vision as it was dark with the clouds dragging the ground, ragged, threatening clouds. To this day I can clearly envision those clouds and even shiver in the memories of the experience. My sister and I are the only people still alive to recount that experience and we talked with  each other about it a few minutes ago on the phone.
For some years tools that had bounced out of that wagon from that mad race kept turning up. And the freshly fashioned round “water proof  top” blew away in the wind anyway. The wind was hurricane force and the hail was it’s weapon. And we went to let Mother know we were all accounted for. Pioneers all!

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