Texas Rain Dance
by Robert C. Waggoner
Copyright 2013 Robert C. Waggoner
Breaking News
Texas 1950 ~ 1957
Drought
They speak of fearsome dust storms that turned noonday into night, so dark that schoolteachers led their students to the buses hand in hand so they wouldn't get lost. The dust storms were so powerful that the grit abraded the paint clean off the license plates on cars unfortunate enough to drive through them.
John Schwartz Sr., 74, still raises cotton and cattle in Tom Green County, near San Angelo. He remembers plowing in 1955 when a dust storm suddenly engulfed him.
"I was to the backside of the field and when I turned around and looked to the north, I saw it comin' and I knew I couldn't get home, so I just got off the tractor and lay down in the furrow that I'd just made," Schwartz says. "And I'll never forget it. I had to put my hat over my head to breathe. It was that bad. And that time, we had chickens and pigeons and guineas and turkeys and all of them were dead. They had to open their mouth to breathe and the dirt stuck in their mouth and they all suffocated."
Finally, It Rains
In 1957, in the seventh year of the drought, the rains finally returned. As it happened, the drought broke immediately after President Dwight Eisenhower flew into San Angelo in late January on a drought inspection tour.
They say San Angelo has been voting Republican ever since.
"There were people standing outside and it just rained and rained and rained and rained, and everybody was dancin' around in our neighborhood in the rain," says Whittley of San Angelo. "But we still didn't think the drouth was broken because, you know, the people who lived around me were all in ranching. And they're always lookin' for the next rain. They can get a 12-inch rain, you know, and they say, 'Yeah, but we sure do need another one.' "
And the rains wouldn't stop. What started in February kept up through the spring and into the summer. Every major river in Texas flooded, washing out bridges and sweeping away houses. Damages were estimated at $120 million. The environment had gone from one extreme to the other.
Texas Rain Dance
Historical Short Story
Robert C Waggoner
In the year 1955 Texas was in a state of a major drought. For many, it made the 1930s drought pale by comparison. Forty five year old Barnie Swartch Jr. leaned against the front door jamb staring out a land that looked as if it had just been removed from an overheated oven; left to rob what little moisture that was left. His father, Barnie Sr., sat in a wooden rocker wondering what would become of his land that he'd farmed all his life and his father before him. The drought was in its fifth year.
Junior took out a pocket knife of his well worn overalls and made a diagonal slash across four upright marks denoting the total five on the door jamb. One deep gouge for each year of drought. As he folded his knife and stuck it in his pocket, a hot gust of wind took his hat off. It blew into the house and settled on the kitchen floor where his wife, Millie was preparing a meager breakfast for a family of seven.
What few chickens were left, an egg was a precious commodity. This morning's meal would consist of fried bread in pig fat. A pot of beans sat on the stove simmering. That would have to suffice until afternoon. Millie was wishful that when her husband went to San Angelo he'd return with some government rations. President Eisenhower was well aware of the hardship of the nations Midwest, top to bottom. It was the United States breadbasket which was in the grip of a major drought.
It was spring in Texas, but it felt like summer. Be that as it may, Junior picked up his hat and strolled to the shed to prepare the tractor for plowing. One never knew when the clouds might form releasing its life giving water to a thirsty land.
Junior checked the oil, water and the remaining fuel tank. Gas and oil they had, but even though they were thankful for small things, you couldn't eat or drink oil. He emptied a five gallon can of gas into the tractor. After that he put the can in the back of his 1949 Ford pickup for the trip to town. He didn't need a written list as what few things he'd pickup because nothing else was on his mind to distract him. Usually a farmer like Junior had to tend the stock, repair various needed things and make sure the crops were taken care of. Now all he had to do was kick the soil and pray from rain.
His clothes were baggy as his whole family looked thin. His son John at twenty two was in the best shape. He wanted to be a soldier and had hopes of joining the service when he could. Daughter Janet had been married, but her husband died in a farming accident a year ago. Now she lived with them with her two year old boy Nathan Weeks. After five years of drought nobody was accustomed to life that was on the verge of starvation.
Junior's mother Beth stepped out on the porch to announce breakfast was ready. Junior walked slowly back to the house. His mind was troubled. His father had withdrawn inside, leaving a shell of a once stout man. Life was slowly draining out of him. Junior helped him out of his rocker into the house. The smell of pork fat made his stomach grumble. Water was at a premium so all he did was wipe his hands on his under arms.
In the last government care package they'd received a gallon can of ketchup. Two small bowels of ketchup sat at each end of the table to dip their fry bread into. Also, each took a spoonful of ketchup and put in their bake beans. This would have to suffice until afternoon. It wasn't a lot different anywhere in the state of Texas that graced the tables for daily breakfast.
One thing fortunate for the Swartch family was the fact their land was paid for; only yearly taxes were needed. Even governments didn't force the issue of collecting property taxes from starving farmers.
After breakfast Junior made ready for town. His wife Millie was scrounging for coins out of an old coffee can for some meager shopping. Janet wanted to go as she was sick and tired of hanging around the house. Millie said, "Who's going to take care of the little guy?"
"Grandma can take care of him for a little while. I want to see a friend and take a bath at her house. She has water and this house has no water for bathing," she yelled.
"Look Janet, we all are suffering because of the weather. We chose to be farmers and that's what we do best. God has sent us this trial and we must see it through to the end. Now, buck up girl and make the best of a bad situation," said her mother.
"Grab Nathan and let's go. I'll watch him while you visit your friend," said mother. Junior had already started the pickup truck and honked the horn ready to go. "Shake a leg Janet," yelled her mother as she raced out the door not wanting to make her husband angry. All knew the times made all of them short tempered.
San Angelo was not a small town by 1950 standards. Its population was around 50,000 residents. Most of the population was dedicated to the oil industry and as a county seat enforced a steady increase in population. It was Friday and the governments designated day for needy families. While Millie went shopping and Janet went to see her friend, Junior stood in line waiting his turn for food stuffs. It wasn't comfortable being here and he felt degraded into something similar as begging on the street. However, looking around he saw neighbors and friends, but most kept their heads down. In the old days they'd meet at the coffee shop and brag about the size of their crop production. For Junior and his friends, that was a fading memory; lost as if in dust storm.
An hour later he finally reached the front of the line. The man in charge said, "I'm sorry friend, but we've run out of supplies. All we have left is some flour, shortening and potatoes. But wait a minute, let me check the back room. I know you've been standing in line for hours. I'll be right back."
Junior knew better than to create a scene. It wasn't the man's fault, but he should have gauged the goods with the demand. While he waited, the sweat began to
run down his face. The sun was overhead and the shade of the building was gone. There were perhaps ten people behind him shuffling from one wore out shoe to the other. Junior perked up when the man showed his chubby face at the counter. In a sack he had a can of Folgers coffee and a large jar of peanut butter. Junior loaded up his potatoes, flour, shortening and coffee in the back covering it with a tarp.
He drove downtown in search of his wife. He found her at the drugstore drinking a Green River with shaved ice. His mouth watered, but with not a penny to his name, he acted like he didn't want one. The owner/pharmacist set one down next to his wife and walked away. A single tear ran down his dusty face. Millie reached up and wiped it off. He sat down and enjoyed the ice drink among friends.
Back at the farm, they left Janet in town as someone would bring her home later, Junior went plowing. They had 160 acres in total and most were next to the Concho River. Junior decided to just do one small 10 acre plot to see if a rain would come. If so they could plant a house garden along with some produce to sell in the market. His tractor didn't have a canopy so he had a wide brim hat to keep the relentless sun from baking his head. Junior had been driving tractor most of his life. His reactions were automatic as he went back and forth