Learn School District #8

Barry Township, Barry County
Blizzard 1932-1933
Priscilla M. Beavan

The teacher hadn't noticed how dark it was getting outside. Only a few flakes of snow were falling at noon and now, at two o'clock it had become impossible to see across the school yard. She turned on the lights¹ so that the dozen or so students could see better and went into the cloakroom at the front of the one-room country school².

She cautiously opened the west door and was surprised at the force of the wind. With some difficulty she closed the door and returned to the class room. Then she moved to the window.

There were some quick decisions that had to be made. The two biggest children could be sent home now. They would be safe, as they lived only a half mile down the road. But what should she do with the other little children who lived to the west and not near the school?

She could dimly see the outline of her pride and joy, a shiny green Model A coupe with the rumble seat. The wind had already blown drifts of snow around the car. There was no use thinking about driving it out. She would not be able to see the road and she could not pack that many children into the small car.

No, they would have to walk the mile and a half to the nearest farm where there was a telephone. The conservative school board would not install a telephone, or running water.

Someday there might be a real emergency and then…, but here was an emergency and she had no phone.

She decided that she had better get them moving. She clapped her hands for attention: "Children, there is a bad storm out there and I'm going to let school out early. You Gardiners can go now. You live the nearest. Hang on to each other's hands and go straight home. The rest of you put your books away, get your coats on and come with me."

The children hurried to obey, giggling and scuffling, not realizing the gravity of the situation. Soon they were standing by the door ready to go.

The teacher had banked the fire in the big round stove and shut off the lights. She put on her coat and hat and then pulled on her pitifully inadequate galoshes. It was not the fashion in those years for a teacher to wear slacks or ski pants.

"Now children, listen to me. We are going to walk to the Kahler farm out at the big road. When we get there, I will call someone to come and get us and take us home safely. You must all stay together as we go. If any of you get tired you must tell me and we will all stop and rest. Don't sit down to rest, we have to keep moving. Are your coats all buttoned and our hats and mittens on? Good. Let's go."

She opened the door and the force of the wind and the bitter cold made the smallest ones shiver. They trooped out and headed for the road. The teacher quickly closed and locked the door before the blowing snow could block it open.

They started slowly down the narrow road. The roadway itself was only recognizable because a sharp bank rose on one side of it all the way to the main road.

"Thank God for that," the teacher thought to herself. "At least we can't wander off on that side. If we stick to the banked side we'll get there. What a pity the banked side isn't on the side that the wind is coming from. We are really getting the full force of the storm."

Ordinarily when she took the children for a walk in nice weather she talked to them and pointed out the different kinds of leaves, sumac, maple, oak, the bittersweet vines, the huckleberry bushes that grew near the road. But today there was no sense in trying to talk. No one could hear through the woolen caps and above the roaring winds.

They progressed slowly, since the snow was already more than knee deep to the youngest ones. The teacher caught one of the older boys by the arm and made him understand that he was to break a trail for the littler ones. He was proud to obey. He was glad that his parents had brought him high top shoes this year. Hardly anyone else in school had hightops with that special place to carry a jack-knife on the side. Maybe someday he'd get the jack-knife.

It was getting darker. The teacher called a rest stop. She tried to present a calm and cheerful face, and to keep her voice under control.

"We are more than halfway there. It won't be too much longer. Let's go on."

On and on they trudged. Suddenly they were on the big bend in the road. As soon as they turned their backs the wind pushed them along, propelling the smaller children along almost against their will. They were being blown nearly faster than their feet could move. One more bend in the road and there was the farm house.

By this time, the littlest ones had fallen several times. Each time the teacher helped them up. She could sense how tired they were. Then they were in the driveway and then up the few steps to the porch.

"I hope that Mrs. Kahler will let this motley crew of snow covered little people in. When this snow starts to melt she will have a mess to mop up."

She knocked on the back door as hard as she could. It opened.

"Mrs. Kahler, it's me, Doretha McBain. May we come in and use your telephone.?" "You sure can," smiled the kindly woman.

The children did not wait to be asked. They numbly followed their leader into the house. The teacher rang the old fashioned wall telephone.

"Give me 47F2", she told the operator. "Hello George. This is Doretha. I have the children as far as the Kahlers. Can you come and get us with the sleigh? Good. We will wait right here."

So it was that my father came to get us. We had all stopped crying by that time. And I thought as I left the door of the Kahler's kitchen reaching for the mop.

1. At this time they did not have electric lights, so she must have lit the kerosene lamps.
2. The Learn School was located on the west side of Kingsbury Road, 1/8 mile south of Pifer Road.