Early Days of South Dakota Fire and Smoke/Ruin and Death, Part III
Opp, Daniel D. "Early Days of South Dakota Fire and Smoke/Ruin and Death, Part III." Prairies 8, no. 9: April 1985, 10-16.
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In parts I and II of the Opp family saga, Daniel Opp described
his impressions as a young boy when he and his parents arrived at
a near empty and awesome frontier—the prairies of McPherson
County in 1884.
Opp’s narrative of those early days in Dakota Territory (which
he wrote in the 1930s) continues with his recalling both sad and
humorous incidents of pioneer life—and the excitement when
statehood was granted.
Yes, the first part of the summer of 1887 was very dry and the prospects
for a good crop soon vanished. Most of the people did not have much
to eat, and due to poor prospects, no credit in any form was extended.
Butter was three cents a pound, and eggs five cents a dozen. So
you can easily imagine that an empty cupboard was steward. Most
of the children had no shoes and the clothing was worn out. It was,
indeed, a desolate spectacle.
However, when the need is greatest, God is nearest.
On the evening of June 28th, dark clouds became visible on the
western horizon, which piled up higher and higher and assumed colors.
The flashing lightning and the constantly rolling thunder came nearer,
until the gates of heaven were opened and the rain came down in
torrents, so that in a short time, all the low places looked like
lakes. There was a succession of heavy rains, and because the weather
was so favorable, we still had a fairly good crop, with the exception
of flax, which did not come up until after the rain and was killed
by frost in the fall.
During the summer of 1887, the roadbed of the Soo
Railroad was constructed from Aberdeen to Bismarck.
The contractors, however, had brought their own laborers.
Therefore, our people received little employment.
The Milwaukee Railroad also completed its roadbed
that fall to Eureka, which, of course, was hailed
with great joy. When Eureka was established, the buildings
shot up like mushrooms out of the ground. In a very
short time, wheat not only could be sold, but also
all the necessities of life could be purchased there.
Located in the center of four surrounding counties,
Eureka had a big boom and became a lively town, doing
considerable business. Very soon, it became known
as the largest wheat market in the world.
Winter came rather early again with severe cold and much snow.
Big storms were the order of the day. The worst was on January 12th,
1888. The storm has since been recorded as the “largest blizzard”
in the history of South Dakota. Not less than 200 souls, in three
states, South Dakota, Iowa, and Minnesota, became victims of the
blizzard in 1888.
South Dakota was hardest hit, with 91 lives lost, mostly school
children. When the blizzard struck, the teachers dismissed the scholars,
and of several schools in the southern part of the state, the teachers
and their scholars lost their lives in that storm. Some families
lost from four to five children or all they had, due to the short-sightedness
of the teachers, who should not have dismissed the children in such
a storm, but should have kept them in the schoolhouse.
They should have followed the method of a certain
teacher, who did not permit her scholars to leave
the building. A little boy began to cry and was determined
to go home. When the teacher saw that all the warnings
were useless, she said, “Alright! If you will
walk around the schoolhouse three times, I will let
you go home.”
The little fellow agreed. The teacher let him go, but not alone.
She went out with him and held on to him, so that he could not get
lost. That was a good lesson. Before he made the first round, he
quickly decided that he did not want to risk going home. (Many a
teacher, even at the present time, might profit by that example.)
Cattle were lost in the storm, too. And not by the hundreds, but
by the thousands. Those people who did not see and
live through that terrible blizzard could have no
conception of its fury. We had so much snow that the
buildings could no longer be seen. I saw tunnels 80
feet long, through which cattle were driven under
the snow from the stable to the well and back again.
That mass of snow remained on the ground until April, when it was
finally devoured by the sun. That the field was late that spring,
the reader may well imagine. But the crop of 1888 was one of the
best we have had up to the time of this writing, and would to God
that we might have another abundant crop like in 1888, for that
would put an end to the present woe and lamentation.
All the crops of that year were of the best quality. The price
of wheat went up to $1.15 per bushel, and was paid for mostly in
gold, because little paper money was to be seen.
It would easily be noticed that farmers and merchants were satisfied.
Most of them could pay their old debts, which was sufficient cause
A newly arrived immigrant is the example of the above-mentioned
situation. In the spring, he had to buy everything he needed for
farming, but could pay down only a small amount. For one debt he
contracted, he had to mortgage everything he had. Then he discovered
he had no harrow, and so off he went to Eureka to the well-known
businessman and financier, Chas. (Tscharley) Pfeffer. Since the
struggling immigrant had already bought all of his other implements
from Pfeffer, he told him about his difficulties. Mr. Pfeffer asked
him if he had any more heifers at home, to which the man replied
that he had.
“Well and good,” replied Mr. Pfeffer. “We will
take the two heifers into the mortgage.”
However, since the heifers had no names, the farmer had to specify
the color, and the color was specified as light and dark brown.
When the farmer paid his debt in the fall, he said to Mr. Pfeffer:
“But Tscharley! It really is fortunate that we have an abundant
crop, otherwise you would not have gotten anything for your harrow,
for one of the haefen is broken!”
Through a misunderstanding, Pfeffer the businessman had not taken
two heifers into the mortgage as he had thought, but instead had
signed for two heafen, that is, two stone jars.
But Mr. Pfeffer was by no means put out by the incident because
he and his brother-in-law, William Brameier, were two untiring businessmen
who worked day and night. And did they not own the bank and a large
Due to the growth of Eureka and the surrounding countryside, Pfeffer
realized the need and the importance of a flour mill. He took the
matter in hand during the summer and by fall the mill was in operation.
It was of great benefit for the farmers. The farmers could trade
in his wheat for cheap and good flour, and would not have to pay
a double price for it. Because of these undertakings, Eureka soon
became the mecca for the farmers in the neighboring counties. Business
was in full swing. Most everybody was happy and content. It helped
too that diseases were practically unknown. Colds occurred very
seldom—because most of the people were poorly clothed and
never got warm enough to catch a cold!
High blood pressure was also unknown, which we must attribute to
the lean and simple food. Even more important, during the summer,
the good Lord provided plenty of mosquitoes, and they certainly
drained our blood and kept the blood pressure down. That is the
reason why at that time we had no doctor bills to pay for that disease.
Thus we lived, souls content. With a cheerful mind, we anticipated
the coming winter, which obligingly approached mildly. That time,
Santa Claus remembered us at Christmas, and we did not go by empty-handed.
And so we entered the new year of 1889 in the best frame of mind.
For many, the year of 1889 was an unfortunate one. The winter,
however, was not severe and so fieldwork was begun as early as March
15th. But the spring was very dry. And on the second of April, we
had such a violent storm, the like of which we had not seen before
or since that time. The air was so full of smoke and dust that we
had to light lamps at noon.
During the windstorm, a prairie fire had broken out about nine
miles southwest of nearby Ashley, North Dakota, the fire sweeping
madly through the hilly grasslands and destroying everything in
its path. And it headed directly for the little town of Leola!
The inhabitants of Leola said at the time, because of the dust
and smoke, they did not see the fire until the town’s first
buildings were in flames. No less than 84 buildings were destroyed.
Only five buildings remained undamaged.
Two lives were also lost. One, a man by the name of G.N. Olds,
who lived three miles west from Leola. He was plowing with an ox
team when he spotted the flames rushing toward him. He ran back
to his home to save his wife and children, but he could not find
them. They too had seen the fire and had fled to a plowed field,
which, in such cases, was the safest place. But in the meantime,
the unfortunate husband in his confusion and fear for his loved
ones, ran back and forth on the prairie searching for them, until
he finally became prey of the flames. He was discovered, crawling
on his hands and feet, badly burned. He died several hours later.
The other victim was T.H. Wadell, who lived ten miles southeast
of Leola. He happened to be in his house when he noticed the fire.
He hastened into his yard, and, to his dismay, discovered that his
barn was on fire. He had earlier put his horses in the barn, and
he rushed to the fiery building to try to save them. When he returned
from the barn, his home was also in flames. Looking for his wife,
who in the meantime had left the house, Wadell contracted such severe
burns that he also died, but only after having suffered excruciating
pain for two weeks.
Yes, many families were completely ruined on that sorrowful day.
Most of the inhabitants of Leola had fled to the railroad track
where there was no grass, and so they remained unharmed. But it
was a terrible day for everyone, nevertheless. Most of them new
settlers, standing out in the storm, surrounded by dust, fire, smoke,
and ashes, seeing the devastation with their own eyes, well knowing
that all their possessions were going up in flames.
With but a few possessions, all were suddenly without shelter.
Nor was there any to be had, for at that time it was no easy matter
to find shelter and protection for 25 to 30 families. No wonder
that many, on account of that disaster, said farewell to the town
of Leola and left with their families. No wonder that many, on account
of that disaster, said farewell to the town of Leola and left with
their families for their old homes in southern Dakota Territory
and to other states.
After the entire month of April had been dry, we had some rain
in May. But in June and July, a great drought set in. As a result,
the crop of 1889 was very small.
There was also a strong increase of immigration from South Russia
that year, with Eureka their destination. Hundreds of families reached
the thriving Mecca of the Plains, and from there they ventured out
into neighboring counties.
By the summer of 1889, most of the better homesteads had already
been taken up. The latter part of that year, the government withdrew
two claims—pre-emption and the tree claim—from the privileges
of settlement. That meant that the newly arriving immigrant was
only entitled to a homestead of 160 acres.
Still another significant event occurred in 1889, this time on
the political scene. North and South Dakota were admitted as separate
states to the Union, thus becoming full-fledged members of a great
It may be remarked here that some of the first settlers in 1889
were overtaken by severe visitations of destiny. In the course of
time of less than six months, no less land seven husbands lost their
better halves by death. Such sad events occurred 15 miles northeast
of Eureka, and not more than five miles distant from one to the
It was strange that each of the seven women died as a result of
confinement after child-birth. That was a severe blow to the survivors,
especially so because the fathers were left with a number of motherless
children, and many of them in destitute circumstances.
Yes, dear readers, at that time conditions were different than
what they are at present when mothers can be taken to a hospital
for their confinement. At that time, the women were dependent on
themselves. However, some of the men found helpmates again, and
some became prosperous, while others remained poor. But they lived
in peace and contentment.
At that time, there was more mutual love among the people that
there is today. Even though they were poor, yet there was a more
helpful spirit among them, probably because the one needed the other.
Now, however, that is not the case. Now, no one wants to be dependent
upon others. Such an uncharitableness does not only prevail among
the common people. It can also be detected amongst the higher circles.
I cannot refrain from mentioning the minister of the first years.
Many a poor pastor had to manage to get by on a salary for $300
to $500 a year. With a wagon and sled, he had to make the trip to
a half-dozen or more churches, which he himself, with hard work,
had called into existence and then had to sustain them. Many members
lived from 10 to 50 miles distant. Even during good weather, the
circuit of the parish would require three days. When road conditions
were bad, and is he did not want to neglect the most distant members,
the trip took up to a whole week. Very often the traveling was done
when it was 35 degrees below zero.
Yes, those frontier pastors also belong to the real pioneers. They
knew, by personal contact, poverty and privation as but few knew
The conditions of the present day are entirely different.
Today, [in the 1930s] most pastors serve but one church;
others from two to three, with a salary of $1,500
to $2,000 a year. But times change and even they complain
about hard times.