A hallmark of life on the plains is weather that is predictably unpredictable.

Certainly, weather patterns can be projected. Forecasts can be turned out, but even the most proficient meteorologist will admit that the weather on the plains can turn violent with very little warning. Is it any wonder that they often overplay the possibility?

The winter of 1873 had been a mild one across Kansas and Nebraska. A terrific winter storm in late January had mercifully missed the area to blast Illinois and Indiana.

For Kansans spring came early. Farmers plowed, harrowed, and planted by February. By Easter Sunday, April 13, 1872, fields of spring wheat and oats were covered with an inspiring blanket of green. That afternoon a rain spread from Nebraska into northern Kansas.

The correspondent for the Atchison Champion wrote,“The rain fell as if the flood gates of heaven had been opened, reminding one very forcibly of a little shower that occurred in ancient times. About ten o’clock it turned into hail, which lasted but a few minutes, when a blinding snow storm set in, continuing until noon yesterday (April 15).

“The wind possessed such terrible force as to move the largest buildings from their foundations and to dash the smaller buildings to pieces.”

Charles B. Letton awoke to a full-blown blizzard near Fairbury, Neb., early Monday morning.

“The fury of the tempest was indescribable. The air appeared to be a mass of moving snow, and the wind howled like a pack of furies.”

For three days terrified citizens and settlers dared not leave their homes, but staying in their homes kept them in a panicked state of mind. In many cases, roofs were ripped away. Buildings were blown down.

The Daily Nebraska State Journal of April 15, 1873, reported that two boys were severely injured by a shed being blown over upon them as the storm blew into Lincoln, Neb. Telegraph lines were down, severing communications along the Union Pacific Railroad.

At New Scandinavia, Kan., in Republic County the roof of a stone stable was blown off, crushing the mail coach. A mill was blown down in Belleville and the twostory store of Chapman & Brothers was badly damaged.

Men who had gathered at the hotel were unable to get home during the several days of the storm even though “they often attempted to do so.”

The public cistern was the main source of water in Belleville’s town square. But if it could be reached, one could only get back to shelter “with a cup full in their buckets”. The only way to obtain water was to melt snow.

Horses and cattle were abandoned, going without feed and water through the three-day storm. In some cases, homesteaders brought their farm animals into dugouts and homes to weather the storm right along with the family.

Six miles east of Belleville the home of the Crane family was burned on Saturday, the day before the rain set in.

Mr. Crane was in Waterville at the time and unaware of the danger to his wife and four children. The neighboring Bennett family took the family into their home just before the rain set in on Easter Sunday.

The Bennett’s home was made of stone, but the gable was no match for the relentless wind. On Monday evening the gable end blew in, crushing the floor, sending much of the floor into the basement where the two families had taken refuge. The walls and roof of most of the house sheltered the families through the rest of the night.

Mr. Bennett ventured into the storm the next morning, making his way to the nearest neighbor, but the neighbor refused to help. The next neighbor readily offered his help, but when they returned to the Bennett house “a most terrible sight” greeted Mr. Bennett’s eyes.

The house was completely demolished. Mrs. Bennett and all her children were dead. Their frozen bodies were found scattered over the prairie encased in ice. Mrs. Crane was leaning against a wagon wheel, her hair frozen to the spokes. The baby in her arms was still alive but only lived a little while.

Every ravine or draw that ran in an east-west direction was filled from rim to rim with snow. Soon the warmth of the sun revealed bodies beneath the drifted snow. The Great Easter Storm lasted only a few days but would live in the memory of those who survived its brutal winds as the most severe storm ever known on The Way West.

“The Cowboy,” Jim Gray is author of the book Desperate Seed: Ellsworth Kansas on the Violent Frontier, Ellsworth, KS Contact Kansas Cowboy, 220 21st Road, Geneseo, Kan. Phone (785) 531-2058 or kansascowboy@kans.com.