for Tri-State Livestock News
Dust driven by wind storms across the Dakotas is eerily reminiscent of the Dust Bowl years nearly a century ago; current drought conditions give farmers and ranchers cause for concern about the upcoming growing season.
While the warmer than average winter has had its benefits, it has also set the area up for a precarious situation going into the spring and summer. North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum and South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem have both recently declared a State of Emergency due to the dry conditions and high fire danger in their states.
The United States Drought Monitor continues to indicate a critical lack of moisture for much of the Great Plains. March snowstorms brought a bit of relief to some areas but forecasted warmer and drier than normal conditions for the foreseeable future stand poised to suck the soil dry again.
Migrant Caravans: Photos From The New Deal Era Document Desperate Times
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Howard Weitzel was born on Dec. 8, 1921, the third oldest child, to Alvin and Maude (Stevens) Weitzel at Edam. He received his elementary education (Grades 1 through 8) at Horse Hill School, which was located nine miles northwest of Edam.
When his older brother left home, Howard, as the second oldest son, had to quit school to work on the farm. Farming then bore little resemblance to the machine-driven mega-farms of today. Farms were much smaller and labour-intensive. Farmers had to be physically strong and able to work long hours. Howard was no exception. He remembers farming with horses, the back-breaking labour of picking roots and rocks, stooking grain sheaves by hand, and milking 12 cows daily. During the Dirty Thirties, he worked with a threshing crew for $2 a day. But despite the emphasis on work with little time for recreation, there was an upside.
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It was pitch black. Dead of night. I had just crossed a bridge I never knew existed. Terrified in terra incognita. Getting ready to jump into a great, wide open.
You never know what will happen, what you’ll learn.
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I don’t remember when I crossed that bridge. But it was either the summer of 1974 or 1975, just after I had bought my lime-green CCM Turismo 10-speed bicycle.
Every now and then throughout that summer – and always in the early morning so I could avoid the sweltering southwest headwind – I would jump on my Turismo and pedal, southward, fast as I could, the 30 miles between my house in Sarnia and my grandmother’s house on the south side of Gillard Street in Wallaceburg. I would stay at my grandmother’s for one night and then, the following afternoon – so I could catch the push of what h
Last year around this time I was cheerfully writing about the great upcoming art exhibitions, dance concerts and plays scheduled for the spring: paintings at the UA’s Joseph Gross gallery by a talented young Liberian refugee; a modern dance in Reid Park by the up-and-coming Hawkinsdance troupe; and an Irish play by acclaimed playwright Martin McDonagh at the Rogue Theatre.
I didn’t see any of them. They were all shut down by the coronavirus pandemic.
Things are getting better now, we hope. The vaccine has arrived and this miracle drug just may bring us back to life eventually.
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