Sound and Fury: A History of Kansas Tornadoes, 1854-2001

Introduction

 

It is certainly not the goal of this book to concentrate on what forms tornadoes take.  There are literally hundreds of articles and books that deal profusely with this subject.  However, in order to educate the novice tornado reader, I will briefly describe how a tornado forms.

The tornado, which in Latin means “tornare: or “to turn” is the most violent storm that nature produces.[i][i]  It is a vortex of destructive, whirling winds with uprising currents of great lifting strength.  The speed of the whirl has been estimated in the nineteenth century at 800 miles an hour, in the twentieth at 450-500 miles per hour, but in recent years the speed has been downgraded to approximately 150-300 even in the most turbulent storms.  Often it is considerably less.  The dynamic force of these wind currents results in a partial vacuum at the center of the whirl, which causes an explosive effect as it passes over structures. [ii][ii]

Tornadoes can occur any place at any time in the United States.  According to U.S. Weather Bureau statistics, in tabulating tornadoes from 1916 to 1954, they found that on the average, 179 tornadoes are reported each year.  The four states with the greatest average number of tornadoes were Kansas, Texas, Oklahoma, and Iowa respectively.  A second study was conducted covering the years 1954 to 1988.  In this study, Texas led all states eith an average of 123 tornadoes a year, followed by Oklahoma with 53; Florida with 44; and Kansas with an average of 42 tornadoes a year.  Kansas had gotten a deserved break, dropping from number one to number four in study number two. [iii][iii] The year 1973 was a bad one for the nation–a record 1,109 tornadoes were reported, causing 87 deaths.  Since 1880 Kansas ranked first in the number of F-5 tornadoes, although this high ranking can be attributed to the fact that Kansas is one of the best documented states in the region.  In the state-s history of F4 and F5 tornadoes, Kansas has had 108 since 1880, the second highest in the nation.  The state has had five tornadoes per 10,000 square miles, and 26 killer tornadoes with 899 deaths.  Tornadoes are most frequent in the Midwestern, Southern and Central States from March through September.  Sixty-eight percent of these tornadoes occur from March through June; 21% during late summer and early autumn; and only 8% in the winter months.  In a study done in 1953, the National Weather Service found that 148 of 500 tornadoes occurred in June.  Most tornadoes take place from 4:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m., when local conditions are at their warmest. [iv][iv]

In the entire world, no single place is more favorable for the development of tornadoes than the Plains region east of the Rocky Mountains, and Kansas is located in the center of this region.  A term known as “tornado alley” has been adopted to describe the area from northern Texas to Oklahoma, Kansas, and Iowa, which seems to be the most susceptible territory for tornado development.  What happens is the warm moist air from the Gulf of Mexico tends to collide with dry air associated with cold fronts originating in Canada and the Northern Pacific.  On the Central Plains there are no mountain barriers to modify the tropical air, which leaves it free to drift far to the north.  The ensuing mixing of these air masses results in severe thunderstorms and with them, tornadoes.  Several hours of humid, unstable air creates a violatile mix that usually precedes the formation of a tornado.[v][v]

The cold air behind a front wedges itself underneath the warm air, forcing the warm air to higher altitudes.  Sometimes in advance of the cold front, a portion of the cold air is forced upwards several hundred feet.  If upper air winds are strong, such as the jet stream, the cold air and the warm moist air converge together sharply to form a swirling vortex of low pressure, which grows and deepens into a twisting motion.  Resultant cooling starts the formation of a corkscrew-like cloud that builds downward to the surface.  Thus, a tornado appears.  Coincidentally, tornadoes will generally form about fifty miles ahead of a cold front.[vi][vi]

The weather preceding a tornado often gives tell-tale signs that danger is near.  Usually hot, humid conditions with high dew points coupled with a strong southerly wind flow can be a prediction of severe weather.   As clouds gather and thicken, the bases appear to bulge downward in pendulous forms not unlike huge grapes.  These are called mammatocumulous clouds.  Sometimes these clouds are a greenish-black color.  Tornadoes will often develop on the southwest side of a storm cell, or sometimes at the end of the storm.  If there has been heavy rain, hail, strong gusty winds, and then it suddenly becomes deathly still and quiet, this can be a sign that a tornado is in the vicinity.  If the cloud base is too high or the vortex is too weak to reach the ground, it is designated just a funnel cloud.  Thunderstorms with low cloud bases are more likely to have stronger tornadoes.  Most tornadoes circulate counterclockwise when viewed from above.

Some tornadoes are described as resembling the trunk of a huge elephant, while others look like snakes and drift backward almost horizontally.  On rare occasions when the funnel was not in evidence at all, it was described as a black massive cloud that descended to the ground.  The famous tornado that hit Irving on May 30, 1879 was just such a rarity.  This tornado was described as a cloud of inky blackness with an almost perpendicular front, apparently two miles wide.  Some tornado paths have been scarcely a hundred feet wide, while others have been two to three miles.  The average width has been documented at 396 yards.[vii][vii]

The tornado is considered the most violent of all storms.  About 70% of all tornadoes are weak with winds of 75 to 100 miles an hour.  About 25% of all tornadoes are considered strong with winds of 110 to 200 miles per hour, and only about 2.5% are considered violent with winds that surpass 250 to 320 miles an hour.  Rarely have tornadoes surpassed the 320 mile mark.  All of these figures are still open to conjecture, as no equipment has survived a direct hit by a tornado.  Tornadoes travel along the ground at an average speed of 30 miles per hour.  Some have been known to stand still, barely moving at all, while others have been clocked at 150 miles an hour on the ground.  In most cases tornadoes move from the southwest to the northeast, but they can turn at any time and go in another direction.  Tornadoes have been know to make U-turns and even complete circles.   Tornadoes can and do occur at all hours.  They are especially dangerous during the middle of the night when it is difficult to see them; however, most develop between three and seven p.m.  In the northern hemisphere tornadoes revolve in a counterclockwise direction, and in the southern hemisphere, clockwise.  There does seem to be occasional exceptions to this rule.  J.P. Finley, the noted nineteenth century meteorologist and pioneer of the U.S. Signal Service, did a study of 350 American tornadoes and found 29 that he believed rotated clockwise in our hemisphere.[viii][viii]      

Little is known, even today, about the interior vortex of a tornado.  The 1996 Warner Brothers film, “Twister,” had a primary storyline about two conflicting groups trying to get a device close enough to the vortex of a tornado to lift it into the funnel and record wind velocity and barometric readings.  This narrative is true; it is a primary goal of tornado chasers to accomplish just that.  In reading this book, you will find only two accounts of individuals who actually saw inside the vortex of a tornado by 1930.  Both of these people were extremely lucky to survive.  It has been impossible to take instrumental readings of wind velocity, humidty, and temperature in the whirling winds at the surface.[ix][ix]

Witnesses often describe a tornado as sounding like a freight train speeding through a tunnel.  The source of this noise could be within the tornado itself or in the lower part of the thunderstorm, since the sound is present even when the funnel does not touch the ground.   People close to a tornado have noticed their ears pop, which is due to the difference in air pressure, and in fact, this change in pressure causes the most damage - it can literally make a house explode.  When a sudden reduction in pressure occurs, air in many enclosures will rush outward, which causes the shattering of windows, collapsing of buildings, and the lifting of automobiles. [x][x] The odor that accompanies a tornado is similar to the smell of sulfur or a person’s bad breath.  What individuals near a tornado are inhaling at this point is difficult to imagine.  The color of a tornado depends on the background behind the cloud and the substance the funnel has sucked up from the ground.  Depending on the type of soil, the vortex can turn into shades of yellow, brown, or red.  And then there are those tornadoes that are invisible, just imagine the fright this could incur![xi][xi]

What are the chances of any one person seeing a tornado in Kansas?  In examining the routes and locations of tornadoes over the past century, native-born Kansans who live an average life of 70 years, will have an 80% probability of witnessing a tornado.  The possibility of having their home destroyed by a tornado during the same 70 year[xii][xii]period is less than 1%, but there is a 43% chance that their property will incur sufficient damage to result in an insurance claim within that same 70 years.  Tornadoes are not the only weather related phenomena that cause property damage.  Hail, high winds, heavy rains, and floods from severe storms cause more damage than a tornado.  Actuarially, there is only on chance in 1,613 that any square mile in Kansas will be struck by a tornado in any given year.[xiii][xiii]

H.L. Jones, a scientist and tornado expert, concluded that the lightning discharged in tornadoes are brighter, bluer, and have a higher voltage than in any other storm.  Some eyewitnesses have described the lightning in funnel clouds as bright sheer lightning, almost like lacework.  In conclusion, it has been postulated that certain lightning patterns could be a mans of detecting the presence of a tornado in a thunderstorm when the funnel is not visible.[xiv][xiv]

From 1916 to 1954, a total of 8,776 lives were lost in tornadoes, making an average of 225 deaths per year. As for injuries, thirteen persons are injured for every one killed by a tornado.  In Kansas the chances of being killed are one in 5,736 and of being injured, one in 441.[xv][xv]

The earliest recorded tornado in history struck London, England, on October 17, 1091 and demolished 600 homes and churches.  The first documented tornado battered the United States in Massachusetts in 1643 and killed one Native American.  Other early American twisters were recorded in New Haven, Connecticut in 1682, and Charleston, South Carolina in 1761.  The Charleston tornado sank five ships anchored in port at the time.  The deadliest tornado outbreak known as the Tri-State Tornadoes,” occurred on March 18, 1925.  Seven tornadoes passed through Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana, killing 695 people and injuring 2,027 along a 437-mile path.[xvi][xvi]Another significant tornado outbreak occurred on April 11, 1965 when 40 tornadoes cut across Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio, causing 256 deaths and 3,000 injuries.  The longest storm system in recorded history struck on April 3-4, 1974 when 148 tornadoes cut a path of destruction 2,400 miles long.  On May 20, 1949 witnesses saw 36 separate twisters in Oklahoma, Colorado, Nebraska, and in Kansas, where newspaper headlines read, “Tornado Army Hits Kansas.”[xvii][xvii]

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Tornadoes have been recorded nearly everywhere in the world.  The deadliest twister struck on April 26, 1989 at Dhaka, Bangladesh, where the storm killed 1,109 people and injured 15,500.[xviii][xviii]

Between 1916 and 1953, Kansas ranked thirteenth in property damage from tornadoes with $24,534,010.  The 1966 Topeka tornado was the first $100,000,000 storm in the United States.

In early accounts of tornadoes certain terms were used interchangeably.  Many people used the word “cyclone” when describing a tornado; in fact by 1900 the term “Kansas Cyclone” became a well-known phrase.  The word “cyclone” describes several different types of storms, but actually a cyclone is any storm that has winds spiraling around a low-pressure system.  A tornado is merely one example of a cyclone, others are hurricanes and the large-scale storms that occur in the middle latitudes.[xix][xix]

The first Kansas settlers were knowledgeable about hurricanes as most of them came from either New England or the middle Atlantic states, where they had experienced that storm firsthand.  Unfortunately, this knowledge was useless when they encountered the tornadoes and severe thunderstorms on the Plains.  Even though they knew little about the true nature and severity of these storms, after several frightening years on the prairie these residents became wary and sought shelter when dark clouds appeared.  The “cyclone cellar” was the first place the pioneers headed for cover, and they knew if they reached the cellar in time and closed the door securely they were safe.[xx][xx]

Settlers caught out in the open had two options, either run out of the storm’s path or lie down in a depression in the ground.  Near Topeka a farmer and his wife saved their lives by crouching in a shallow hole used to store potatoes.  In the same storm, a neighbor dropped down next to a tree and threw his arms around it.  Although he took a terrific beating as the wind buffeted him about, he came through the ordeal alive.

From the 1920s to the present, the basement now affords the best underground protection.  Early recommendations were to go to the southwest corner, but after further studies the scientists discovered that the northeast corner was the safest.  Now they suggest hiding under a sturdy table or piece of furniture in a central room away from windows and doors.  In a house without a basement, they advise going to an interior closet or windowless room, lying down and throwing a mattress on top for added safety.[xxi][xxi] 

                  FAVORITE TORNADO LEGENDS

Tornadoes have left behind a legacy of peculiar incidents, and some of these were noted repeatedly in 19^th century eyewitness accounts.  Most have been explained, but some were different than first described.  The following section describes a few of these tornado legends.

*Women and Children First.  Many of the deaths, especially in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, were said to be primarily women and children.  This myth is valid.  When the storm struck,  most men were outside in the open where they could see a tornado coming and take cover.   Women and children were not so lucky.  Since their domain tended to be inside the home, they were oblivious to the rapidly changing weather conditions outside.  When a tornado approached, they took refuge in rooms that afforded little protection, and if the house collapsed, they often suffered death or severe injuries.[xxii][xxii]

*Plucked Chickens.  One story repeated many times is that tornadoes can strip a chicken of all its feathers.  Witnesses have described how the feathers appear to explode off the chicken.  This is not true.  Scientists discovered that when a chicken becomes frightened it loosens its feathers, then the wind merely blows them off the chicken.  This peculiarity is known as “flight molt.”  After the Registration Day tornado on June 5, 1917 a man kicked over a box that had landed upside down in his field.[xxiii][xxiii] Out popped a de-feathered hen squawking and running as fast as she could.  Another citizen reported seeing a rooster blown into a jug with only his head protruding.  This oddity is questionable.

*Straws Penetrating Trees.  Some pictures show straws that appear to have penetrated trees and lodged there.  The theory was that the wind was so strong it could actually drive a straw into a solid tree.  What really happens is the wind turns in a cyclonic fashion, twisting the tree and ripping open the bark, then the wind blows the straw and other flying debris horizontally at the tree.  The straws actually penetrate the trunk as it cracks open.  After the tornado passes, the tree returns to its original position, leaving the straws stuck in the bark.

After a tornado hit Scottsbluff, Nebraska on May 30, 1951 a newspaper reported that the wind imbedded a bean into an egg one inch deep without cracking the shell.  This story is open for speculation.[xxiv][xxiv]

*Dust Devils and Micro Bursts.  These two weather anomalies have been closely associated with tornadoes, although neither one really has anything to do with the other.  Dust devils are vortexes created at the surface and generally form on hot days under a clear sky with light prevailing winds.  The ground surface becomes extremely hot, causing the excess heat to surge upward in a plume.  If there is a slight breeze, the in-rushing air has enough momentum to cause rotation.  The highest winds are about 30-60 miles per hour, although 25 miles per hour is more common.  The lifetime of a dust devil ranges from a few minutes to longer than half an hour.[xxv][xxv] Though dust devils may look imposing, damage is usually minimal; however, a few of the stronger ones have been known to overturn trailers and down power lines.  One well-formed dust devil struck the locomotive of a moving train with such force that the engineer said he could feel the cab shake.

Micro bursts or down bursts are completely different.  There is a fine line dividing a micro burst from a small tornado as both can cause significant damage.  In the past these “bursts” were called “straight winds”, “prairie hurricanes”, or “derechos.”  The concept of a micro burst or a down burst was ascertained by Dr.  T.  Fajita in 1976 after he had analyzed hundreds of aerial photographs from the “super outbreak” of 148 tornadoes on April 3-4, 1974.  A typical down burst will last from 50-60 minutes and can produce widespread roof or tree damage.  Some houses that are twisted off their foundations, give the initial impression of tornadic activity.  The exact process that triggers the rapid descent of air resulting in a micro burst is not completely understood.  What is known is that when a cumulonimbus thunderstorm begins to weaken, air currents laden with moisture plunge downward to the ground, which causes the air to spread out in a 400 foot layer containing winds of 40-50 miles per hour.  Some winds have been clocked as high as 150 miles per hour.  The front of this air mass spreads out in an arc.[xxvi][xxvi] The source of the flow is exhausted in a few minutes, but the outflow keeps expanding with a curl-back motion that can carry small debris for a half mile.  Perhaps the best example of a down burst in Kansas occurred on May 11, 1973 when a cluster of 15 down bursts developed near Chanute.  They were seen primarily to the right of a meso-cyclone within a bow echo.  These particular down bursts killed three people and did $15,000,000 damage before the hundred mile an hour winds left the state.

 

There have been debates among weather forecasters over the concept of a micro burst vs.  a small tornado; the difference between the two is almost negligible.  What was presumed to be a micro burst caused public outcry in 1998 when it severely damaged a lakeside community near Kansas City.  The weather station issued no watches or warnings, and the residents cried foul when the Weather Bureau downplayed the event from a small tornado to a micro burst.[xxvii][xxvii]

 

                   MORE MYTHS, SOME TRUTHS

*Animal Behavior Before A Storm.  Before the age of modern-day forecasting, one of the primary methods used by pioneers to predict severe weather was to observe the erratic behavior of their animals.  Some interesting folklore and superstitions include: Horses run fast in the corral before a storm; Cows lie down and refuse to go out to pasture; When dogs eat grass, expect severe weather or a tornado; Ants are busy, gnats bite, crickets sing louder, and flies gather at the screen door before a storm.[xxviii][xxviii]

*Large Cities Protected by “Heat Dome.”  One theory contends that large cities have higher temperatures in the spring and summer, creating a “heat dome” that saves them from tornadoes.  These theorists claim that tornadoes will raise over a city and then drop to the ground beyond this dome.  This concept is absurd.  Oklahoma City was not spared from extensive damage in 1999.  The citizens of Denver have actually seen an increase in tornadic activity since the city has expanded its boundaries.  Tornadoes ravaged the Dallas/Fort Worth metropolitan area in the year 2000.  Most large cities that support this ideology are those that have not had a tornado in recent years.  This good fortune is based on luck, not increased temperatures.[xxix][xxix]

*Tornadoes Strike Twice in the Same Place.  Unfortunately this is true.  Two of the most terrifying tornadoes in recorded history hit Irving just 45 minutes apart on May 30, 1879.  The first moved in from the southwest, and the second and most violent, entered the town from the northwest.  One-third of Irving was in ruins.  Tornadoes struck the town of Cedell in western Kansas three times in three consecutive years–1916, 1917, and 1918.  Even more peculiar was the fact that each of these storms occurred on may 20 at about the same time of day. A fear that spread immediately after several tornadoes, including the June 8, 1966, Topeka tornado and the Ruskin Heights tornado in 1955, was that another tornado was following the first one.  This same rumor nearly caused a riot after the 1991 tornado that hit McConnell AF Base and Andover near Wichita.[xxx][xxx]

*A Tornado Can Suck a River Dry.  This is true.  The suction effect of the vortex is powerful.  J.P. Finley told about a farmer’s wife who left two buckets of milk hanging in a well to cool.  A tornado, hovering aloft, pulled up both buckets and then disappeared.  Finley also spoke of wells being sucked dry as the vortex passed overhead.  Water spouts, or small tornadoes, often suck water out of lakes, along with live fish.

*Sudden Drop in Atmospheric Pressure Causes Most Damage.  Tornado damage is caused by the combined action of the strong rotating winds and the impact of wind-borne debris.  Houses seem to explode, but actually the force of the wind pushes the windward wall inward, then the roof lifts up and the other walls fall outward.  Opening windows does not make a difference.  The house would be damaged just the same, not because there was a radical drop in the air pressure.

*A Tornado Can Be Outrun.  Although most tornadoes travel at about 30 miles per hour, some move at 70 miles per hour.  Their paths are erratic, and they can change directions suddenly.  In more populated areas citizens can lose sight of a tornado while fleeing and end up directly in its path.  Many people have died trying to outrun a tornado.  The Wichita Falls tornado in 1979 recorded several deaths caused by this foolish action.[xxxi][xxxi]

*Hills and Valleys Afford Protection from Tornadoes.  A false rumor.  Tornadoes have no geographical boundaries.  Emporia residents believed that building a city between two streams afforded them protection, but they have been hit by tornadoes several times.  Topeka citizens just knew that a high hill on the southwest side of town, Burnett’s Mound, would protect the city.  This theory was wrong–a huge tornado struck on June 8, 1966.[xxxii][xxxii]

 

 

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 CHAPTER ONE:  TERRITORIAL KANSAS AND TORNADOES

 

There is a great deal we don’t know about Native Americans and weather.  We don’t know if any of their villages were destroyed by tornadoes; we don’t know the mysticism that some tribes believed about severe storms and tornadoes.  We can only imagine what it was like being out on the open prairie and without any warning seeing a tornado bearing down on the village.

We know that Native Americans were great weather forecasters and some of their predictions have survived to the present day.  Here are a few gems that have endured:

“When the moon wears a halo around her head, she will cry before morning and the tears (rain) will reach you tomorrow.”

“When locks turn damp in the scalp house, it will storm on the morrow.”

“When the night has a fever, it cries in the morning.”

“When the buffalo band together, the storm God is herding them.”

“When the sun sets unhappy, the morning will be angry with storm.”

—Zuni Indians1

Records of tornadoes in America date back to 1804; reports of this information is scattered throughout the bulletins of the U.S. Signal corps and the U.S. Weather Bureau.

 

In the early 19^th century a great divergence of opinion existed concerning the climate on the Great Plains, which lay beyond the fringe of the first settlements.  Was this really the Great American Desert, as explorers such as Zebulon Pike professed?  Did this desert make agricultural development impossible?  These questions remained unresolved throughout the settlement of Kansas Territory.  At that time the main source of climatological data came from the U.S. Army detachments stationed at the eastern forts.  It was the responsibility of the Medical Department su surgeon at each post to keep a “Diary of the Weather,” with a view to compiling a “medical topography” of the region.2  Though of doubtful quality, their observations did give an indication of the general climactic conditions west of the Mississippi River.  Beginning in the late 1840s the military weather records were supplemented by the reports of volunteer observers from the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, who supplied an array of thermometers, barometers, and rain gauges to these qualified individuals.  The first instrumental weather records conducted by the Medical Department began at Fort Snelling in Minnesota and Fort Leavenworth, Kansas in 1836 and a year later at Fort Row, St.  Louis Missouri.3  The observer’s records did not show any weather anomalies for several years and indicated only a passing interest in severe storms and tornadoes.

By 1850, after thirty years of record collecting, the weather observers had gathered enough data for an analysis.  This monumental task fell to a youthful statistician by the name of Lorin Blodget.  His final report was a 400-page book entitled, “Climatology of the U.S. and the Temperate Latitudes of the North American Continent.”  This invaluable weather record earned Blodget the title of “Father of American Climatology.”4

While it appeared that weather observers were making strides to understand the science of meteorology and forecasting, it was apparent that even the simple weather theories were unpopular.  It would take disaster after disaster to spur further study and acceptance.

 

The first major meteorological breakthrough came from across the Atlantic Ocean.  On November 14, 1854 the French warship Henri V sank off the coast of Balaklava during a fierce storm that claimed 400 lives.  The French minister of war asked noted astronomer Urbain Leverrier to look into the circumstances surrounding the disaster. By showing that the “surprise” storm was actually no surprise, that it formed on November 12 and then swept across Europe from northwest to southeast, Leverrier proved that weather phenomena travels across the earth’ surface.5

The French government theorized that cities could exchange information and use it to locate storms and predict their movement.  In 1855 the government established a special observation network of 24 stations linking 13 of these by telegraph.  Other European nations followed suit, and by 1865 Europe’s weather observation network boasted 59 stations.6  A similar weather service wasn’t established in the United States until 1870, and the advent of the telegraph led to its development.  Without the telegraph no instantaneous link of information could exist between cities.

The first significant encounter between early Kansas settlers and nature at its worst occurred in October 1844.  Some early Kansas residents were missionaries appointed to bring Christianity to Native Americans living on reservations.  One of the largest of these missions was the Shawnee Methodist Mission located in present Shawnee Mission (a suburb of Kansas City).  In the 1840s the mission became a popular gathering place for both the settlers emigrating on the Plains and members of the Shawnee Indian tribe.

On October 24 a tornado struck the mission.  Elizabeth Hayward recorded in her book,

John McCoy, His Life and His Diaries the following passage: “In the evening a dreadful hurricane passed over Shawnee Methodist Mission, demolishing many of the buildings and injuring some few individuals, but no lives were lost.”7

East of the mission, the tornado damaged more settlements. The Fort Leavenworth Indian   Agency, located near the Missouri state line, was “torn to pieces. . . all the roof was carried off

several hundred yards, and torn all into pieces and scattered,  hardly two pieces at the same place.8

At the village of Westport, Missouri, the tornado demolished the schoolhouse and one dwelling, killing a little girl.  McCoy certainly had reason to make mention of this storm as his two-story frame house was “thrown from its foundations,” and the “gable ends. . . were carried upwards of 50 yards. . . Some of the large beams were taken 50 feet.  Pieces of furniture were found a great distance in the woods.”  Near the town of Independence, Missouri,

the tornado reportedly killed ten persons.9

Two days later, on October 26, 1844 Shawnee Indian missionary Jotham Meeker, curious about the rumors of death and destruction in the area, rode east to Westport.  He recorded in his diary, “Ride to Westport and other places, where I witnessed terrible destruction from a tornado which passed about a mile from us. . . Nearly all the fences, trees, houses, in its course are prostrated.  Many people are wounded.  Hear of eight lives being lost.”10

Two years later on August 19, 1846, several companies of Missouri volunteers driving a thousand head of cattle westward encamped on Stone Coal Creek (present Coal Creek in Douglas County).  That night a severe wind and hailstorm struck the party, spooking the animals and stampeding them across the plains.  It took the men several days to round up all of the cattle.11

Encounters with severe weather was a new and frightening experience for emigrants on the Oregon, California, and Santa Fe Trails.  Francis Parkman in his famous work, The Oregon Trail, does not describe any contacts with tornadoes but does mention thunderstorms and bad weather.

Parkman, who was in an Ogallah Sioux village when a severe storm struck, wrote the following about his experience:

“After eating a bowl of meat and inhaling a whiff or two from

our entertainer’s pipe, a thunder-storm that had been threatening for some

time now began in good earnest.  We crossed over to Reynal’s lodge

(A Frenchman who lived in the Sioux village) . . . Here we sat down,

and the Indians gathered around us.

“ ‘What is it,’ said I, ‘that makes the thunder?’

“ ‘It’s my belief,’ said Reynal, ‘that it’s a big stone rolling over the sky.’

“Old Mene-Seela, or Red Water . . . said he had always known what

thunder was.  It was a great black bird, and once he had seen it, in a dream,

swooping down from the Black Hills, with its loud roaring wings, and when

it flapped them over a lake they struck lightning from the water.

“ ‘The thunder is bad,’ another old man said, ‘he killed my brother

last summer.’”

Parkman learned more about the man killed by the lightning:

He belonged to an association which, among other mystic functions,

claimed the exclusive power and privilege of fighting the thunder.  Whenever a

storm which they wished to evert was threatening, the ‘thunder-fighters’ would

take their bows and arrows, their guns, their magic drum, and a sort of whistle,

made out of the wing-bone of the war-eagle, and thus equipped, run out and fire at

the rising cloud, whooping, yelling, whistling, and beating their drum, to frighten it

down again.  One afternoon, a heavy black cloud was coming up and they repaired

 

to the top of a hill, where they brought all their magic artillery into play against it.

But the undaunted thunder, refusing to be terrified, darted out a bright flash, which

struck one party dead as he was in the very act of shaking his long iron-pointed

lance against it.  The rest scattered and ran yelling in an ecstasy of superstitious

terror back to their lodges.12

 

Early Kansas settler Ely Moore, who was a resident of Lawrence for decades, left behind a legacy of speeches, letters, and journals on every aspect of life in 19^th century Kansas.  In one account he told of his first encounter with a Kansas tornado in 1855, and his reminiscence is the only known record made by a white settler about the Indian’s perspective on these storms.

Moore was out hunting buffalo with a party of Miami Indians when a storm approached.  Suddenly the Chief of the Miami tribe pointed skyward at the millions of grasshoppers winging their way east obscuring the sun.  The Chief exclaimed to Moore that “they know.  The devil winds they come, kill all.  Maybe.”  Moore realized that they were all out in the open facing a gathering storm so they banded together with the Indians to protect themselves from the severe weather.

Moore wrote that the man worked feverishly cutting a trench wide enough to hold the wagons.  They brought all the ponies into an enclosure and herded the cattle close so the guards stationed around them could prevent a stampede.  Moore said:

About five o’clock in the afternoon a greenish purple cloud hung close to the

horizon and revolved as it approached.  This balloon shaped lowering monster had

many laterals that were licking up beasts, water, earth and air to satiate the

ponderous paw of this fiend of might. . . . Our awed cattle with lolling tongues and

 

stamping feet were pitiful to see. . . . Our chief mounted up his favorite horse and

occupied the center of the encampment, the squaws packed the empty wagons, and

the hunters with their arms thrown around their horses necks stood and awaited

the result.  Just then a sound as of muffled drums reached us, and as a rift in the

clouds shot a glare of light upon the camp, I stole a hasty look around me.  There

stood the Indians, stolid, but in an attitude of humble supplication to the Great

Spirit.  The storm descended with violence upon the dusky forms who seemed to

literally await their doom.  After the wind came the hail of great size and sharp

enough to force cattle’s eyes from their sockets and lacerate the backs and flanks

of the ponies.  Some of our wagon covers were tattered or shred in strips.  The

‘cyclone’ as it was known then, appeared egg-shaped to the north, a half mile wide

in length.  As it neared the encampment it deposited within our corral of wagons a

downpour of sand, earth, grass, weeds, and limbs of trees.  We were literally

covered – wrapped in an electric cloud.  As the electric sparks snapped from the

tips of our horses ears, the mooing shivery creatures were circled by the electric

fluid and bolts were drawn from our wagon beds.  Fortunately as the tornado

approached, it seemed to bound in the air some hundred feet.  Just as one of the

drag-nets, or feeders of the parent dragon reached our encampment it was

apparently struck by lightning.  The breaking of the dragnet was all that saved

us–the force was broken and contented itself by destroying only a few wagons.

 

Ely happily reported, “as the disappointing fiend passed, over us came feelings of light and joy and jolly, then supper.  What a transition!  The faces that were but a few moments before blanched with despair, now were warm with a smile and a jest.”

On their way home and just a few miles from their camp, they saw where the tornado had stripped acres of sod from the prairie.  They found two dead buffalo, both completely devoid of hair and each had broken bones.  “These animals must have been picked up by the tornado and carried high and then dashed to the earth,” Moore noted.  His account of this tornado is the first one recorded in Kansas.13

The early years in Kansas Territory were not only violent with free-state and pro-slavery skirmishes but also plagued by destructive tornadoes.  David Ludlum in his Early American Tornadoes noted that on May 15, 1859 a tornado dipped down in the small town of Manhattan.  On June 8 a strong tornado hit Lawrence, destroying buildings, unroofing houses, and injuring many residents.14  The storm moved on to Osawatomie where it killed three people.15

One account of this storms passing written by O.C. Brown appeared forty years later in the Jefferson County Journal published in Adams, New York.  Although his account was off by two years (he states it occurred in 1857), it was actually the 1859 storm that he was describing.  This is his version of what happened that day:

 

   In gratitude to a watchful providence, which so signally protected our lives, I

will give a more minute account of the wind demon, which well might be

denominated the ‘spirit and power of the air.’  It was a Sabbath afternoon, when

returning from a meeting at the Geers Hotel, casting my eyes west I saw a black

cloud the size of a man’s hand.  A moment later its proximity and size filled me

with terror, I sent my son Spencer to the river (Marais des Cygnes) to secure the

 

ferry boat. My wife with the bronchitis, unable to increase her speed, with my arm

around her waist I almost carried her bodily, reaching the door of our cabin as the

bolt struck us, burst it in, and prostrating us upon the floor with great violence.

That saved our lives, for a moment later the roof of the adjoining building was set

down by the terrible wind just in front of the door we had so quickly entered, as

not to have time to raise the latch.  My son having made the boat secure, started

back through the woods some forty rods for the house, reaching the timber just as

it was struck.  He ran the gauntlet of the falling trees, leaping the down and

dodging the falling ones, and limbs.  He came to us in our moment of peril.  Into

the northwest corner of the room my family, about half a score, were grouped.