01/30/2026
Reflections of the Blizzard of ‘75
By Hubert, Lorraine, and Bruce Perry
The day was Friday, the date January 10, 1975. The plan for the day was to move some pigs from a hog house to the barn to make room for a new batch of feeder pigs that were expected later in the day. Also, in the plan was a trip to town for a few groceries– milk, etc. The three of us went out about 8 a.m. to move the pigs. A few flakes of snow started to fall about the same time. The temperature was mild and the flakes increased in size and number and soon covered the ground. The pigs, having never been out of the growing house, were reluctant (to say the least) to go out into the snow. Then having been driven out into it decided it was fun and didn’t wish to go into the barn— so about an hour and a half later we finally had them moved. By this time the wind had risen to strong gusts and visibility was very poor. Announcements of school closings were on the air, and needless to say the trip to town was cancelled. I felt an ominous feeling that we might have extra men, if the truck should arrive with the pigs, so I decided to do some extra cooking, just in case. Fixed a big batch of chili in my new crock pot– Bruce had been wanting me to use it again before he went back to college– cooked a chicken, baked potatoes, squash, rhubarb pie and then later in the afternoon Burce and I made doughnuts to help pass the time, as the weather worsened by the hour. It became apparent by 4 p.m. that no truck could possibly get here with our pigs, and we hoped that they were not stranded on a road someplace. Hubert was in and out several times checking on livestock, waterers, etc. It was rough going outside. Glasses were soon covered with snow and drifts were hard to see, making for very difficult walking. He did manage to chase the 102 head of feeder cattle into the barn later Friday evening.
It grew dark early Friday evening, and lights flickered ominously as the winds gusted to 60 to 60 miles per hour or more. We drew gallon jugs and pitchers of water for drinking and turned on the electric pump in the basement to get some pressure for the cistern water that is still maintained in one faucet in the kitchen and basement. We have been thankful for this many times in the past. Fearing damage to the freezer and refrigerator from the flickering lights, we unplugged them. The lights were now more off than on. We ate our chili supper by candlelight. Finally about 7:25 the lights failed to come on at all. We had turned up the thermostat to get the radiators as warm as possible, hoping that by morning the electricity would be restored. We pulled shades and drapes and put towels in the window sills that were on the north and west, to catch the snow that was drifting in, despite the storm windows. A plastic tablecloth over the living room west door helped a little. I have never heard such a strong wind. We heard later there were some gusts up to 90 miles per hour. It didn’t take long for the house to start cooling, of course. Hubert, Bruce, and I played cards by candlelight around the kitchen table— the first of many games to be played the next two days.
By about 10 p.m. it was quite obvious that we would have some frozen pipes if we didn’t drain them, so drain them we did. The radiators had some warmth in them so we did not drain them, still hopeful that morning would be better. We moved all of our house plants to the basement.
Going to bed in such cold bedrooms was another adventure. Accustomed to an electric blanket as we are, we felt the cold sheets even more, and piled on blankets we hadn’t used in years. An upstairs has a lot of advantages, but I have never liked it during a windstorm, summer or winter, and this was no exception. Needless to say, sleep was hard to come by. Bruce called from his room that his bed was moving. And ours was too. The whole house vibrated. I think we know a little what an earthquake must feel like. I found the bathroom stool even shook!
6:30 a.m. Saturday finally arrived, but the house remained dark, even after normal time for sunrise. Shades were all down and windows were all completely covered with packed snow. The wind was as strong as ever. We closed off our kitchen and made use of our gas stove. We kept the oven going constantly to provide heat. We were lucky also to have a trash burner in the basement. Hubert built a fire in this and we were thankful for some pieces of coal in the old “coal room,” left over from the days of the coal furnace. The draft in the chimney was terrific from the wind and the fire roared. Much of the heat went up the chimney, and my chief worry was what we would do in case of fire. We piled on more clothes than I have ever worn before. Bruce and I borrowed Hubert’s thermal underwear and I added boot socks, tall snow boots, slacks, sweatshirts, etc. After breakfast Hubert ventured out to tend the livestock and give hay to the cattle. With face masks and many warm clothes as he trudged out. He stated later that he nearly got lost from the house to the barn. The stock seemed to be alright, though covered with flying snow. It blew into the barn through closed doors and windows. At least they could eat snow if they were too thirsty. Without electricity of course we have no water pressure for livestock either.
Bruce and I did the breakfast dishes and moved to the basement for the day. A card table and chairs, candles, flash- lights and transistor radio were very much a part of Saturday… plus the cribbage board, and large faced cards we happened to have. I heartily recommend them for playing cards in a dark basement! I thought at one point that Hubert was going into hysterics laughing. He looked at me in all my regalia, which at this time included a red knit billed cap, and burst into laughter. We did look crazy. About this time Huberty decided he had to do something besides play cards so he and Bruce decided to pop corn the “old fashioned” way on the trash burner. You know, that was the best popcorn I have ever eaten. Burce was having a great time it seemed. He couldn’t remember either having many of these experiences. We were glad to all be together. The kitchen was so cold we once again had soup, but in the basement this time.
Sometime Saturday we took snow out of the window sills, and from the floor next to the west windows. Early Saturday morning we drained all the radiators, except the one inBruce’s room that we were sure must have already frozen.It wouldn’t drain.
Around 4 o’clock Saturday the wind began to subside a little. Hubert could make his way to the barn a little better. We knew we could not sleep upstairs, the temperature was about 20 degrees in the living room. We had managed to keep the basement about 45 to 50 degrees. I had no desire to sleep in the basement, so Bruce and I decided to “insulate” the kitchen while Hubert was checking livestock. We put blankets up to the open door to the utility room. We put water on to boil and hoped that we weren’t using too much gas. Next we spread newspapers and rugs on the kitchen floor. All this helped a lot, and with less wind the kitchen seemed more comfortable. We ate our supper upstairs, played more cards, listened to the radio, talked on the telephone numerous times (as we had all during the storm) to the neighbors and the folks. We were very concerned for some of our neighbors that didn’t have any auxiliary heat at all. I don’t know how they stood it. Most everyone stayed in their basements to avoid the wind. Hubert and Bruce brought down our mattress and put it on the kitchen floor and moved our reclining chair to the kitchen and these were our beds for the night. I got the chair as I am the shortest. It sleeps very well! Grandma was terribly concerned that we would be gassed, having the gas oven on, but we felt there was enough air coming into the house that we were safe. She called early Sunday morning to see if we were alright. Not sure what she could have done if we hadn't been. The only way at this time that anyone could have reached us would have been by snowmobile.
At last, Sunday morning the snow had stopped and the wind had practically stopped. And now the work begins. Visibility was good but everyone was hopelessly blocked in. The yard and lane were full. The County came out Sunday noon to open up for the Olsons, so they could get to a warm place, so we could get out that way, if we could get the yard opened up. We had called Hostengs to get our bid in for some heavy equipment, and on Monday morning they came and broke through a huge drift by the barn so the cattle could get out, and opened up the yards and lane. The electricity came on at 2 p.m. Sunday, and the plumbers managed to get to our lane and helped get the pump thawed and necessary plumbing so we could once again have heat. Sunday morning, a man by the name of Mentzer stopped at our place. He was walking to meet a snowmobile. He had been snowed in at Arch Hartman’s and was most anxious to get home to his livestock.
We were indeed lucky. So many lost hundreds of head of livestock due to suffocation or exposure. Cattle were found along fences and roads. They had panicked and gone out of shelter in many cases and toward the storm. Our only death loss to date was one sheep. However, Hubert feels we probably lost at least a month on the weight of the cattle as they had to be started slowly on feed again after being on hay only, and without water. Our pigs came Monday, hours after we had the lane opened. They had been safely sheltered in a holding barn, so seem to be doing alright as this being written on January 28. Bruce was to have gone back to college on Jan. 12 but left the morning of the 14th, and arrived back safely.
We will long remember the Blizzard of ‘75, and I wanted to write this so my grandchildren (if I am so lucky) can read what really happened, and not the exaggerated version that will inevitably come by the re-telling of it. Through it all there was no complaining or quarrelling, and I was proud of my family. Perhaps it has taught us all to respect Nature, and to learn that we can get along on less if we have to.
