History Buffoons Podcast

Today's Winds-day: The Dust Bowl

Bradley and Kate Episode 83

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0:00 | 1:14:41

A wall of dust a mile high. Coffee that tasted like soil. Kids coughing through the night while parents sealed windows with wet sheets. We dive into the Dirty Thirties to trace how a wheat boom, a drought, and one very bad idea—“rain follows the plow”—turned the Great Plains into the Dust Bowl, and how people fought their way back.

We start with the sales pitch that lured settlers west: the Homestead Acts, cheap tractors, and World War I wheat prices that made plowing up native prairie feel like destiny. Then the rain stopped. Without buffalo grass and blue grama to anchor the soil, the wind took the land itself. We walk through the grim reality of daily life under black blizzards, from dust pneumonia and zero visibility to livestock suffocating in drifts. April 14, 1935—Black Sunday—becomes the breaking point: daylight collapses, communities bunker down, and hope gets tested.

From there we explore the economic squeeze of the Great Depression—bank failures, foreclosure auctions, and impossible choices about staying or leaving along Route 66. Finally, we unpack the turning point: New Deal soil conservation, contour plowing, cover crops, and FDR’s massive Shelterbelt Project that planted more than 200 million trees across the Plains. Alongside Hazel Lucas Shaw’s family story, we pull out the lessons modern agriculture still leans on today: rotation over extraction, windbreaks over wishful thinking, stewardship over short-term gain.

If you care about history, climate, farming, or simply how ordinary people endure extraordinary hardship, this story delivers perspective and grit. Listen, share with a friend who loves history, and leave a review to help more curious folks find the show.

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Banter And Beers

SPEAKER_02

Oh, hey there.

SPEAKER_00

Oh, hey there. I'm Kate. I'm Bradley. And this is Why are we doing this? History buffoo. History buffoo. Alright, you're still moving shit. Should I get that noise and play it there? How's it going? I'm well. How are you? I'm good. Excellent. So what do you got for us today?

SPEAKER_02

Um, we are gonna talk about the dirty thirties.

SPEAKER_00

I remember my 30s.

SPEAKER_02

It is the 1930s Dust Bowl when the planes were so over farmed, yeah, the topsoil would like lift up into the air for like a decade.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, the Dust Bowl.

SPEAKER_00

I've heard of the Dust Bowl before.

SPEAKER_02

They called it the Dirty 30s.

SPEAKER_00

Well, I mean, it happened in the 30s. Sure did. It was a little dirty. It was dirty.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

I mean, it just works.

Support The Show

SPEAKER_02

It I mean, we can't make this stuff up.

SPEAKER_00

So, anyways, if uh you enjoy what you hear on the history buffoons, um, please go to our website. We have a link up top if you're willing to support us so we can keep creating content.

SPEAKER_02

A link up top where?

SPEAKER_00

On our website, like I said. Um did you? I sure fucking did.

SPEAKER_02

I'm gonna take off my shoes. Okay.

SPEAKER_00

Let's get comfy, shall we? Jesus. Woo! Those dogs are barking. Uh all right, I guess I won't finish what the fuck I was saying.

SPEAKER_02

Say the thing. I don't want to repeat it. Top of the webpage. It's okay.

SPEAKER_00

If you just do that. If you're so inclined to support us, we have a link up top. Please help us out. We greatly appreciate it because we enjoy doing this content and we just want to keep it going. So uh historybuffoons podcast.com.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

What do we got?

SPEAKER_02

So my husband, Nathan, went on um a trip to Illinois. Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Oh, I'm just gonna drink this one.

SPEAKER_02

It was like maybe three weeks ago, something like that. Two or three, yeah. And he texted me while he was going down to Illinois. He said, Hey, I picked you up some podcast beers. I was like, that's awesome, thanks. And I like looked at Life 360 and was like, Oh, we're still in Wisconsin. I was like, Oh, cool, that's whatever. So he comes back a couple days later, and he brought us what is it? Deuster Bex. Deucer Bex. It is made out of Elkhorn, Wisconsin. And in fact, you've taken me there. We met up with um a friend um who lives in Elkhorn. Um, and uh I don't I don't remember if she's ever been there.

SPEAKER_00

I think I I feel like that was her first time, but I could be wrong.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. Um but either way, but yeah, we met her there. Um she is a um a friend of a friend, so she was she's pretty cool. Yeah, she was nice, but uh yeah, we met at Deucerbeck's and I don't remember if this is the one I had. It's um Big Farmer Pale Ale. It is a 6.2 in a 16 fluid ounce um can. And um, yeah, so Nathan got that for me. What did he pick up for you?

SPEAKER_00

So it I used to sell this beer.

SPEAKER_02

Okay.

SPEAKER_00

Uh it's been a couple of years since I've sold beer, so I could be getting my facts wrong. So if I do, I apologize. Um, I actually rather enjoy Dusterbeck's beer. I like their what they got going on there, it's super cool.

SPEAKER_02

They have a big red barn and it is so cool looking.

SPEAKER_00

Yep. So I I have Bentis Candy, which is a juicy IPA, and if I'm not mistaken, the reason why it's called Bentist is his name is Ben, and he used to be a dentist. That's awesome. Or still is, maybe. I could be getting my facts mixed up. So that's cool. Dusterbeck's people, sorry.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, that's awesome. But no, we we enjoyed the location, we enjoyed the beer, we enjoyed the company.

SPEAKER_00

Super fun. Yeah, we had a good time there meeting up with a friend, and um, I just they had a band there. Yeah, uh, nice restaurant. Um, my supervisor at the time showed up, said, Oh, hey, what's up, dude? Oh, I don't remember that. You you guys were hanging out in the restaurant part. I went and said hello outside. Yeah. So yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Okay, cheers. Cheers.

SPEAKER_00

So yeah, if I got if I got my facts wrong, sorry, but I rather enjoyed there. We I had a meeting there once prior to taking you there. That's why I'm like, oh, I should take it in. We like beer and whatever. And uh I and I knew my friend down there. So and I had a I had a few. It was good.

SPEAKER_02

Did you?

SPEAKER_00

Oh yeah.

Today’s Topic: The Dust Bowl

SPEAKER_02

Don't remember. That's really tasty.

SPEAKER_00

Well, you wouldn't remember you weren't there talking about the meeting we had.

SPEAKER_02

Oh let's continue.

SPEAKER_00

Anyway, so we're gonna talk about the Dust Bowl of the 1930-30s.

How The Plains Were Settled

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, sorry, I'm rearranging my okay. Yes, so were you rearranging my microphone? If you heard that. So um yeah. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the South, the southern Great Plains, western Oklahoma, the Texas Panhandle, yeah, southwestern um Kansas, eastern Colorado, um, they were widely promoted as America's great agricultural frontier.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, because they're still trying to get people to go out that way. Yes, yes. Yes, there was people out there. However, it was still relatively untouched, unpopulated. Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Railroad companies and land speculators and federal policy all work together to sell like this powerful idea that this land was meant to be farmed. If you recall from our um Oregon Trail episode, there was the Homestead Act of 1862 that had already opened up the Westlands to settlements by granting 160 acres to anyone willing to live on it and improve it. Um, but for the plains, 160 acres wasn't enough to uh sustain a family. So Congress expanded the opportunity. And so um came about the enlarged homestead act of 1909, okay, which increased claims to 320 acres of dry land regions, and then the Stock Raising Homestead Act of 1916, which allowed up to 640 acres for ranching.

Homestead Acts And Big Acreage

SPEAKER_00

Holy fuck. Yes. So and again, this is pure just what's your opinion on this? Do you think that's why a lot of I mean, we'll we'll call it Midwestern-ish, it's more west than mid, but do you think that's why a lot of families like had big ass fucking ranches that went through generations? Oh yeah, because like great grandpappy decided I'll do that. 640 acres. I mean, fucking hell. That's that's a lot of fucking land.

SPEAKER_02

So when people think Midwest, I always think that they think of like Ohio.

SPEAKER_00

Which is to me, it's funny. I don't even think of Ohio in the Midwest. I don't think personally that either. But being from Wisconsin, you're from Nebraska, I consider that more Midwest. Obviously, too. Iowa, Nebraska, um Kansas, yeah, Minnesota, even I throw in there. Obviously, Wisconsin, like I said, you know, that's where I see Midwest. I I feel like Ohio's East still. But again, I I don't know if I'm right. That's just my perception of it.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, that's my perception too.

SPEAKER_00

But yeah, so, anyways, um, because I just wonder if like, yeah, great grandpappy started this ranch 1917 or whatever the fuck years you're you're talking about, you know. It's like yeah, crazy.

SPEAKER_02

Anyways, so obviously, between all these like homestead acts, the the message was weirdly clear. Like, here is the land we want you to go and produce stuff here.

SPEAKER_00

This land is yours, exactly.

SPEAKER_02

That was a that was really exciting.

The Myth Of Rain Follows The Plow

SPEAKER_00

You got too excited for that.

SPEAKER_02

So at the same time, there was a popular phrase kind of gaining traction. Yeah, and it was rain follows the plow. Have you ever heard that? I've never no same. So maybe I just made it up. I don't know. But the belief was that cultivation itself would change the climate, that breaking the soil and planting crops would somehow increase rainfall.

SPEAKER_00

And boy, were they wrong.

SPEAKER_02

But it it sounds naive, but back then it was very like quote unquote scientific because there were periods of unusually wet weather in the late 1800s that seemed to prove like every time we plowed, it would start to rain. But it was just coincidence, except for yes, obviously.

SPEAKER_00

Right.

SPEAKER_02

But it's it would be like us like washing our car and then it rains.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah. I literally was at one of my accounts, I think it was last earlier this week or last week, and this nice guy, Mike, that I talked to at this particular account, it's like, yeah, we're supposed to get rain, of course, and I just washed my car, you know. So yeah, he literally just said that to me.

SPEAKER_02

It's like so um they they took mistook like a temporary wet cycle for like a permanent shift. So the Great Plains were naturally semi-arid, semi-dry.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Um, average rainfall decreases sharply the farther you go west.

SPEAKER_00

Sure.

SPEAKER_02

And much of the southern plains receives between 15 and 20 inches of rain per year, barely enough for consistent crop farming without irrigation.

SPEAKER_00

So they probably need some significant irrigation set up, right? Yes.

SPEAKER_02

So before settlement, that fragile oak ecosystem survived because of prairie grasses.

SPEAKER_00

Right.

SPEAKER_02

So buffalo grass and blue grandma didn't need deep rainfall.

SPEAKER_01

Okay.

Wheat Boom And World War I Demand

SPEAKER_02

Their extensive root systems locked the soil in place and conserved moisture. So settlers didn't come west to grow grass, though. They came to grow wheat.

SPEAKER_00

I'm sure there's some that wanted to grow weed, but either way.

SPEAKER_02

Wheat.

SPEAKER_00

Oh, I I grass, weed. So I got what you said. I don't think you picked up what I said.

SPEAKER_02

Oh, I got what you said, and that's why I corrected you because I didn't put two and two together, even though I heard you. When World War I erupted in 1914, global wheat, uh the demand for global wheat expanded exponentially.

SPEAKER_00

So, what's the difference between global wheat and just wheat? Continue.

SPEAKER_02

I was gonna try to uh so European farmland was devastated by combat during World War One. Okay. So that created a massive demand for grain to feed both soldiers and civilians everywhere else.

SPEAKER_00

Yep, yep, yep.

SPEAKER_02

So high prices and government encouragement pushed countries like the United States to plow millions of new acres, dramatically increasing production, especially on the Great Plains.

SPEAKER_00

Well, there's just so much open fucking land. It's like, hey, we're not doing anything. Let's, I don't know, maybe help out.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, exactly. And that's what they did.

SPEAKER_00

So here's 640 acres, go make some farms.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, and because of that, prices soared. Of course. Farmers on the plane could suddenly make some serious money, and so they plowed their hearts out. Tractors became more affordable then in the 1910s, 1920s. I feel a burr coming on.

SPEAKER_00

Sound like you said, I feel a burr.

SPEAKER_02

I don't think it came out yet.

SPEAKER_00

It's close, it's real close. So while she's doing this, Great Plains, am I right?

SPEAKER_02

It's not there yet. So sorry.

SPEAKER_00

Either way. Um yeah. I I can't imagine being alive at that time and being like, I'll fucking do this.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

I'm also not a farmer, so I mean, props to all the farmers out there still.

SPEAKER_02

I mean, I I spent like, you know, a summer farming.

SPEAKER_00

Okay. No, you didn't.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, I did over t over 2020. I did. I was I was I taught I was learned I was taught how I was learned. I was taught how to drive a tractor and to drive into town. Yes, I was taught how to drive into town and unload the corn, drive back, unhitch, re hitch, and all the things.

SPEAKER_00

Did you actually drive like the combine that collected the corn in the combine, nope, just the the tractor with the bins in the back. Okay, so you didn't farm you delivered.

unknown

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Well, there were a couple times when I got I I sat on Nathan's lap and I, you know, did the steering wheel shit.

SPEAKER_00

Did he do the combine? Like did he help out with that?

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, him and grandpa did.

SPEAKER_00

Um I'm sure, yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Grandpa kind of weaned off towards the end just because you know it was hard to get up and down.

SPEAKER_00

Well, he's getting older, so yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. Anyway.

SPEAKER_00

I like grandpa, he's nice. Grandpa's great. Yeah.

Plows, Tractors, And Torn-Up Prairie

SPEAKER_02

Okay, so again, tractors were becoming really affordable. Yep. And mechanized plows could break acres in a day, and that would have taken teams of horses far longer, right?

SPEAKER_00

So did they use horses or do they use like cattle, like bulls and stuff? Bullshit. I guess I'm not even sure. Horses. I use horses too, though, right? Yeah. Okay. So I just in my head, I did not picture a horse. I just pictured like anyways. Sorry.

SPEAKER_02

That's okay. It's it's giving me time to burp.

SPEAKER_00

So or is it?

SPEAKER_02

So millions of acres of native prairie grass were torn up in a matter of years. So by the early 1920s, roughly five million acres of grant grassland per year were being converted into cropland across the plains. So the fields had been untouched for centuries, were suddenly exposed.

SPEAKER_00

Well, you you eliminate all that grass that held the soil together.

SPEAKER_02

What were the I'm sorry, I don't remember the It was buffalo grass and blue Grammia or blue.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, either way.

SPEAKER_02

Blue grandma or grandma.

SPEAKER_00

Hey grandma, pretty much, yeah. Sad grandma. Anyways, um, yeah, obviously you start plowing that shit out. Nothing to hold the soil together.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, but they didn't know.

SPEAKER_00

Well, I mean, it's not like we invented farming the year before. Fair. I mean, right?

SPEAKER_02

No, but people also weren't settled in this area.

SPEAKER_00

I I get that. However, you can't tell me this is the only place we've ever run into this kind of climate and soil conditions.

SPEAKER_02

I have seen it saying it is the worst natural disaster slash Americ um human-made disaster of American history.

SPEAKER_00

I I see it. Yeah. But it's just it's mind-boggling that, like, okay, yeah, just do it. I don't know what's happening, sir. Yeah. You know, I just I figured, I don't know. Anyways, continue. Sorry.

SPEAKER_02

So at first, this looked like a triumph. In the 1920s, houses in excuse me, towns in the panhandle and western uh Kansas grew rapidly. Sure. Grain elevators rose along rail lines, and new houses were built, automobiles replaced wagons, um, and families like Hazel Lucas Shaw's family watched wheat transform their communities. So Hazel's father, like many others, rode that wave of prosperity. Wheat prices were high, crops were strong during these wet years, and Hazel Lucas Shaw grew up in that moment of promise.

SPEAKER_01

Sure.

Prices Crash And Overplanting

SPEAKER_02

So her father had homestead um land in Boise City, Oklahoma, which is deep in the panhandle. Okay. And it was a region once named uh nicknamed No Man's Land.

SPEAKER_01

Sure.

SPEAKER_02

Um, but wheat had brought their family success. So the sky always felt like generous and enormous and just full of life and full of rain and just now the the panhandle is that little strip right above Texas, right?

SPEAKER_00

Correct. Okay. Yeah. So they I always get that wrong in my brain for some reason.

SPEAKER_02

So if you think of like skillet, yeah, yeah, the panhandle of the skillet.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, okay.

SPEAKER_02

So the land seemed endless and super forgiving. Um, but when Hazel reached adulthood, when she marries her husband Charles Shaw, begins teaching school, she started having children of her own, the illusion of endless prosperity was starting to crack.

SPEAKER_00

Starting to dry out, if you will.

SPEAKER_02

If you will. So after World War One ended, European agriculture resumed production. Rebounded, yeah. Yes.

SPEAKER_01

Yep, yep.

SPEAKER_02

So wheat prices then in America collapsed in the early 1920s. Sure. So farmers who had borrowed heavily to buy tractors and expand acreages finally faced this failing income.

SPEAKER_00

Well, they didn't have enough to pay back their debts, basically. And so, yeah, they had all this fucking money like borrowed to get these tractors, equipment, grain silos, all all this shit, and all of a sudden, oh shit, we're not making enough to pay this back.

SPEAKER_02

So to compensate for these lower prices, they planted even more acreage.

SPEAKER_00

So they made it worse. Yeah, that I thought there was a word I was gonna try and use, but I'm not that smart to remember it.

SPEAKER_02

Um, more land was plowed, more grass was destroyed, and by the late 1920s, the plains had fundamentally altered. So millions of acres that had once been protected by these deep-rooted native grasses were now covered in these shallow rooted annual crops. Yep. And then there was also little crop rotation, which I didn't know was a thing until 2020 when I learned how to drive a tractor.

SPEAKER_00

You didn't know that.

Drought Begins And Soil Exposed

SPEAKER_02

Um, Nathan might have said that beforehand, but I didn't really see it in action until 2020.

SPEAKER_00

Because like you've you've been to my house, uh, that road that you come on around to my house, Honey Creek. Yeah. I always joke, and I always get disappointed that like, oh, it's not cornier on both sides because it looks like you're driving the trench run in the Death Star.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

But then it's like, oh, they plant their uh what is the fucking thing they usually do?

SPEAKER_02

Um soybeans.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, I think that's what it is. And it's like, well, that's disappointing. Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

But yeah, so because each plant takes different nutrients and puts certain ones back, right? So like with grandpa's farm, they alternated between corn and beans per um acre or per uh plot of land. Yeah, yeah. Which I that's super interesting, but and that's not what they did back then. They did not do that crop.

SPEAKER_00

They didn't know that, obviously. And like obviously, I know don't quote me on this because I'm not a farmer, but like I've seen, like, let's say I'm just picturing the road by my house. This field they had corn two years in a row, but then they they switched. So I don't know what the lifespan is of the soil, if you will, before they have to swap. I'm not sure, but I could have sworn there's a couple times where I'm like, oh, corn this year, corn this year, no corn this year. Okay, I don't know. Interesting, but it's it's crazy how they've learned that over the years, obviously.

SPEAKER_02

Since then, my dad would probably be able to tell us because he he's definitely he's in agricultural um sales, but oh, is he?

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, I guess I didn't know that.

SPEAKER_02

Um, from what I remember, which isn't much sometimes, and well, for us to admit, he sold um chemicals for agricultural crops. So okay. Um, like Roundup and shit.

SPEAKER_00

Roundup. I feel like that's not right, but maybe I don't know. Dwayne, let us know.

SPEAKER_02

Um, but grandpa's farm was always really good at beans this year, corn next year. Okay, sure.

SPEAKER_00

Like well, it just it helps the soil, it gets those nutrients back because the the nut the crop the following year is gonna benefit from that, and vice versa, you know, whatever. So yeah, makes sense. Yeah. Anyways.

SPEAKER_02

So soil conservation methods were fairly minimal. Fields were often left bare between plantings, especially after harvest. Yep. And then the rain stopped coming.

SPEAKER_00

Who'll stop the rain?

SPEAKER_02

When drought conditions began in 1930, the land was already exposed and vulnerable. And without moisture, crop roots dried quickly. Nope, died quickly.

SPEAKER_00

I mean, they probably dried and then died. Probably. But yeah.

SPEAKER_02

But with no grass left to anchor it, the topsoil dried into a loose, powdery layer.

SPEAKER_00

Literally just dust. Yes. Hence the dust bowl.

Daily Life In The Dust

SPEAKER_02

And the plains did what they had always done. The wind blew across the plains.

SPEAKER_00

It's like, hey man, my field's over there now.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plains.

SPEAKER_00

Is that a thing?

SPEAKER_02

It's from My Fair Lady in My Fair Lady. She is like this Cockney poverty stricken woman, and some hoity toity bachelor brings her in and teaches her how to speak properly.

SPEAKER_00

So it's it's like a it's like a is that what um uh fucking just lost the name of it. What's her name? Julia Roberts? Is that pretty woman, pretty much? So it's a sequel, it's a remake of that.

SPEAKER_02

No, so he basically speaks her.

SPEAKER_00

Pretty woman is a remake of that.

SPEAKER_02

Yes. So so the rain, so so the practiced mantra that she had to do was the rain and spine falls mainly, but she's like falls mainly in the pines. Anyway, let's I dictate that.

SPEAKER_00

Let's move on. Jesus Christ.

SPEAKER_02

So the winds picked up. Hazel grew up during this boom. She saw sorry to interrupt.

SPEAKER_00

That's okay. This is now is are we we're in the Great Depression already?

SPEAKER_02

Yes, we are. I was getting I'm going to mention that, but no, you are exactly in the right time frame. Exactly. So Hazel grew up in this boom. She saw that wheat um bring brought a lot of prosperity to Boise City, Oklahoma. She saw the pride of the settlement, the sense that her family was building like something permanent in a place that once had seemed empty. Um, and by the time that she was a young wife and teacher in the early 1930s, that that permanence was starting to unravel.

SPEAKER_00

Okay.

SPEAKER_02

That optimism of rain follows the plow had started to turn into this dangerous illusion. Sure. Um, the Federal Lands Acts, like um, excuse me, the Federal Land Acts had succeeded in populating the plants, but they had not changed the climate. The wheat boom had enriched these families, but it had also stripped the land of these natural defenses.

SPEAKER_00

Nutrients and everything, yeah.

SPEAKER_02

So when the drought deepened, the conde conquences were immediate and they were catastrophic.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

And families like um Hazel Lucas Shaw's were left to live inside this result. Yes. So by the early 1930s, what had once been dependable farmland across the southern plains had become something unstable, something that was shifting and almost unrecognizable.

SPEAKER_00

Well, yeah, it's just fucking dust everywhere and dirt.

SPEAKER_02

And it got bad. Um, the the wind no longer like skimmed harmlessly across the field of these this anchored grass.

SPEAKER_01

Okay.

SPEAKER_02

It lifted the very surface of the earth and carried it away.

SPEAKER_00

So I've I don't want to say made you because you enjoyed this movie. Oh, excuse me.

SPEAKER_02

I know what you're getting at.

SPEAKER_00

Interstellar.

SPEAKER_02

Yes, I have a picture. Do you? I'm gonna insert, I'm gonna um highlight this, this, this, um, this area. There is a picture between um a dust, the dust bowl covering an automobile and the movie Interstellar, where the dust is covering the truck.

SPEAKER_00

That's fancy.

SPEAKER_02

So I'll put a side-by-side picture, but it immediately made me think of Interstellar.

SPEAKER_00

How could it not? I mean, yes, and by the way.

SPEAKER_02

Describe a little bit about the beginning of Interstellar, so if people don't know.

SPEAKER_00

The beginning? Yeah. So basically, um, more or less Matthew McConaughey's character Cooper, which it's funny. I I saw a video speaking of Interstellar, since let's go on a tangent here. Um, they never mention his first name. Oh, really? In the movie? Just Cooper. He's always referred to as Cooper. Could can you guess what his first name actually is in that movie? No, Joseph.

SPEAKER_02

I like it. I like it.

Black Blizzards Across States

SPEAKER_00

So it's funny. The video I saw was somebody asking Matthew McConaughey that. Like, did you ever know? He's like, I might have once, but I've no idea. It's like, and they tell him it's Joseph. He's like, Cooper Joseph? He's like, no, Joseph Cooper. So it's pretty funny. I love Matthew McConaughey. He's he's one of my favorites. But, anyways, so the earth is dying. They have farmers similar to what we're honestly talking about, that are trying to, you know, dust everywhere, and literally, literal fucking dust storms come through. And they're all like masks and goggles and everything, and so on.

SPEAKER_02

And so, yeah, and at the dinner table, they would have their plates turned upside down, so when they were ready to eat, they could then turn it up and it would be semi-clean.

SPEAKER_00

Yep. So, yeah, so it's literally uh well, that's set in the future. Yes. So it's literally like a hundred years apart from what they're talking about, and it's the same thing, more or less, except the literal planet is dying in Interstellar, where the rest of the Earth in the 1930s is not. Either way, very similar.

SPEAKER_02

But if you have not seen Interstellar, it's a fantastic movie. I had not it was made in 2014. I had not seen it until like maybe late last year.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, I I had you watch it with me because so I'm sorry.

SPEAKER_02

No, that's okay. It was so good, and I honestly would recommend everybody watch this.

SPEAKER_00

It is, it's not what you call wholesome, but it's there's not foul language, but it is though, in a way, with the love of his daughter and everything, and I don't want to give anything away because you know, whatever. It's so good. My my brother Corey and I, Corey, who wrote the music for our our intro and our podcast and everything. Um, he and I love Christopher Nolan. We absolutely love Christopher Nolan as a director, and we will pretty much see anything, and and it's great. The uh they there's a new one coming out, I think it's in July, if I'm not mistaken. The Odyssey. Literally, Homer's the Odyssey with Matt Damon.

SPEAKER_02

Matt Damon who you love.

SPEAKER_00

I love Matt Damon. My brother and I cannot wait to see this movie because it's we we we love what he does. Christopher Nolan is a great fucking director. Yeah. And his brother, oh shit, Jonathan Nolan, I want to say. He writes a lot of stuff. I don't know if he wrote on the Odyssey. Um, but it's funny. Um yeah, it was inner stuff. No. Uh one of the lines in the Dark Knight trilogy.

Interstellar Parallels

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, the one that Harvey uh Oh, the the sky is dark or darkest just before the dawn or something like that.

SPEAKER_00

You either become the hero or live to see yourself long enough to become the villain or something.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

His brother wrote that. Nice. I I think that's the line I'm thinking of. Either way, I love Christopher Nolan. I like his brother's writing. It's great. Go see Interstellar. No, not go see, but watch it. It's yeah, it's it's out there, it's fucking great. Let's get back on our story. 1930s.

SPEAKER_02

Yes. Um, so the wind no longer skimmed across these grasses, right? Picked it up, lifted it up and carried it away. So storm after storm, towering clouds of topsoil that rose high into the atmosphere, sometimes climbing more than a mile above ground. Holy shit. And what began in a single county did not ever stay in that county.

SPEAKER_00

No, so it's like, I don't know counties and obviously Oklahoma, but it's like, hey, Racine's dirt is now in Milwaukee's dirt.

SPEAKER_02

You know, basically. So dust from Oklahoma drifted into Kansas.

unknown

Wow.

SPEAKER_02

From Texas, it drifted into Missouri. Sure. And on certain days, reports claimed as far as Chicago. Oh my God. And some days reported as far as New York. And some days it was reported.

SPEAKER_00

Atlantic Ocean.

SPEAKER_02

The Atlantic Ocean on the ships.

SPEAKER_00

Shit, really?

SPEAKER_02

Yes.

SPEAKER_00

Holy fuck. And that's fucking wild. Because like, do you have do you have any type of mileage on that by chance?

SPEAKER_02

No, I have a map that I can enter here.

SPEAKER_00

Um of like holy shit.

SPEAKER_02

I have a map of like the general area of where where the most of the dust traveled and then where the kind of the heart of the dust bowl was.

SPEAKER_00

I know this is not perfect, what I'm about to say, but what is it? From New York to LA is 3,000 miles roughly. Cut it in half.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Roughly. Yeah. We'll we'll we'll even take a couple off. Yeah. 1,300 miles to the ocean. Give or take, obviously. I'm not being specific here, but holy that's a long yeah. Fuck. Yeah. So that's insane.

SPEAKER_02

So 19 states would eventually feel this reach. Sure. So statistics didn't convey what it meant to stand in the middle of it. No. Which is what we're going to talk about today. Well, of course. If you were living in the panhandle, yeah, Western Texas, east, sorry, western Kansas, eastern Colorado, the dust bowl was neither a headline nor a weather pattern. It was literally your kitchen table. It was the plates that you ate on.

SPEAKER_00

You had to turn your plates over.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, it was the dust in your eyes. It was the dust in your lungs.

SPEAKER_00

Like it it was That is just crazy. Like I can't.

Homes Turned Into Bunkers

SPEAKER_02

It was a phenomenon.

SPEAKER_00

Like I couldn't think of I can't I can't even imagine what it would be like to like live in that such I don't want to call it filth, but it is. It is. And just have like layers of dust on fucking everything. That's just fucking wild. That would be such a burden on your day-to-day life. Yes. I gotta sit down in the old portage on or I mean outhouse and go wipe off my seat. Yep. Or I'm gonna make dinner, I gotta empty the pot out of dust and shit. I mean, just everything. It's fucking wild.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Crazy.

SPEAKER_02

So they would like wipe off their kitchen table in the morning and then it would be covered again by noon.

SPEAKER_00

Why wouldn't you just put a fucking like plastic? Well, not plastic. We're talking about the 1930s.

SPEAKER_02

That's yeah. A blanket or something.

SPEAKER_00

A blanket andor, you know, a tablecloth and then just lift it off. That's what I would do.

SPEAKER_02

I'm sure people did. I'm sure people did, yeah.

SPEAKER_00

So anyways.

SPEAKER_02

But it was the way the air itself like seemed heavier, thick enough that you noticed it in every breath.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

It was waking up in the middle of the night coughing, your throat raw from inhaling particles so fine you cannot see them individually. No, yet you could still taste them constantly.

SPEAKER_01

Sure, sure.

SPEAKER_02

It was the unending sound of wind pressing against the house. It wasn't like a sharp gust that passed, but like a city low roar that seemed to like settle into the walls. Like that's what they would experience as the dust bowl.

SPEAKER_00

Do you do you think like with the the wind like that that they kept hearing a little ding?

SPEAKER_02

Yes.

SPEAKER_00

I mean, fuck.

SPEAKER_02

Yes, they said that there was like a roar that would come with it.

SPEAKER_00

That's crazy.

SPEAKER_02

So even when a storm finally moved on and the sky returned to blue, the dust never disappeared. No, it lingered in the cracks and the floorboards and in the seams of clothing. I mean, I have been to the beach once wearing glasses, and I forever carried sand in the crevices of my glasses. Like it gets everywhere. Sure. So and that's sand.

SPEAKER_00

That's sand. We're talking about even finer. Finer. Like dust. Yeah. That's even finer than what you were experienced there. So I mean, yeah, this is literally getting everywhere. Could you imagine having dust in your ears like that? If you had to walk outside and go farm or whatever, fuck.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. Um, it would sift into dresser drawers beneath mattresses, even. I collected in the folds of curtains and along the edges of windowsills. Yes, Bradley.

Dust Pneumonia And Health Crises

SPEAKER_00

I I I have to say this because you brought up mattresses. Also, I love this beer. I really like it. Good. Yeah. Good job, Nathan. Yeah, thank you, Nathan. I really like mine too. Um I finished one. Look at you. That never happens. I know. I'm sorry. Am I talking too much?

SPEAKER_02

No, I like it.

SPEAKER_00

So I used to sell mattresses.

SPEAKER_02

Yes.

SPEAKER_00

Right. Do you want to know what of the one of the most disgusting things I ever see? To this day. I literally saw it like a week or so ago. People will transport a mattress to a different house and not fucking wrap it.

SPEAKER_02

Cover it. I know.

SPEAKER_00

It's like, do you I don't care if it's nice out, it doesn't matter. Do you know what particles are getting on your bed? And then you're just like, oh, I'll be alright. I'm putting a sheet on it. Nope. So fucking gross.

SPEAKER_02

Nope. No, I totally get it.

SPEAKER_00

Get a fucking bag.

SPEAKER_02

Get a bag. Get a bag.

SPEAKER_00

Go to Steinhoffels. They at least we used to. We used to just sell mattress bags for the size you need. Tape up the fucking end. It's worth it. Because that you can't get those clean like that. Yeah, you can use a fucking Stanley steamer or whatever the fuck they use.

SPEAKER_02

Topical.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, that's all it is. You're not getting the depth. Yeah. Anyways, that's my fucking TED Talk or whatever they call those.

SPEAKER_02

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

SPEAKER_00

About mattress safety and cleanliness.

SPEAKER_02

So this dust would also work its way into flower sacks and sugar bowls into boots and blankets, fine lines of your hands.

SPEAKER_00

Did the boots have the fur?

unknown

Oh my god.

SPEAKER_02

Boots with blankets.

SPEAKER_00

Okay. I'm sorry. That's on my that's on me. Yeah, you shouldn't do that. No, okay.

SPEAKER_02

Um you would sweep and sweep and sweep, and still there would be a coating on the surfaces.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, you couldn't get it clean.

SPEAKER_02

Hayes would later describe those years in a way that still captures like the claustrophobic um essence of it. Yeah. She said, quote, it seemed like the black dust was always with us. It seemed that we lived in a land of haze. The atmosphere seemed to always be closing in around us, creating an eerie and uneasy feeling, end quote.

SPEAKER_00

That's crazy.

SPEAKER_02

So outside fields that had once been green, um, and they laid flat and pale, their top soil was stripped away, or it was even piled into drifts, like were in like snow, yeah. Like snow in Wisconsin. Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

It would be all up along fence lines.

SPEAKER_00

Given up in their business.

SPEAKER_02

Livestock would stand coated in this dull gray film. Ribs were starting to show um sharply each week as the pasture disappeared between these layers of loose earth. They had no grass, no grass to eat and no water to drink.

SPEAKER_00

No.

Economics In The Great Depression

SPEAKER_02

So the land had been pushed beyond its limits long before that first storm um came about because of all the plowing. And they just didn't know. That's the thing. Like they just didn't have that education, that that working knowledge.

SPEAKER_00

But how how would how would they have though? Exactly. Like they just they did not know it, learn it situation. 100% huge situation. But and that's all you can really say about it. It's like they just they didn't have the knowledge of that time for knowing we need water, we need irrigation, all this, whatever. Just go go make wheat, you'll be rich. Yeah, fuck. We don't need it.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, we don't need we don't need that buffalo grass. Yeah, yeah. So when the drought arrived, there was no deep prairie roots left behind to hold it together. There was no thick grasses to bind that soil together to um battle against the wind. And what had once been a living, resilient system had been broken apart and exposed. And so when the wind came, as it always had on the plains, and oh my gosh, does he get windy there? Um, there was nothing left to stop it from taking the ground itself. Right. The storms did not arrive very nicely, they weren't polite in any way.

SPEAKER_00

They were like, hey, we're gonna win you now.

SPEAKER_02

Just so you know, we're coming, prepare, do what you need to do.

SPEAKER_00

If you if you got it a couple minutes, get ready.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Okay.

SPEAKER_02

Um they came in waves as well. And after a while, the calendar just stopped mattering. They stopped saying like today's Tuesday. Instead, they would say, It's blowing again, or it's the day after the last blizzard.

SPEAKER_00

Or so would they say today's Wednesday? Wednesday.

SPEAKER_02

I don't like what you did there. Today's Wednesday. That's funny.

SPEAKER_00

Yep.

SPEAKER_02

Drink some more. Okay. Cheers to that.

SPEAKER_00

Thanks, Tuesday backs and Nathan. Oh boy.

SPEAKER_02

By 1932 and 33, the wind had become something just everyone watched. It was just part of their daily routine then.

SPEAKER_00

God could you imagine sleeping in this? Oh gross.

SPEAKER_02

Mornings began with a glimpse towards the horizon. Always. They would wake up and look outside.

SPEAKER_00

Just it was automatic. Well, why wouldn't you? Like, hey, are we getting fucked today? No. Yep, no, never mind.

April 14, 1935: Black Sunday

SPEAKER_02

They would read the color of the the horizon to see what was coming. So a pale yellow haze meant grit would be in your teeth by noon. Oh, gross. And a darker brown line, excuse me. A darker brown line meant that you might see not see the barn from your porch.

SPEAKER_00

And that was probably 50 feet. Yeah. Give or take, whatever. Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

So the sky, the horizon became like a warning system every day. Jesus Christ. So on the worst days, days, the wind would start low and steady, then build until it seemed to vibrate through the ground. You could hear it before you see it. It was like a long-distant roar, like an approaching train. Sure. The light would begin to fade, the air thickened, the chickens started heading for their coops well before sunset, and then it would hit.

SPEAKER_01

Jesus.

SPEAKER_02

The first gust slammed against the house hard enough to rattle windows in their frames. Dust poured across the yard in sheets, rolling and folding over itself like waves. Within minutes, the world would turn sepia, then brown, then black.

SPEAKER_00

So sepia, like we're in the beginning of uh Wizard of Oz.

SPEAKER_02

Wizard of Oz, exactly. So if you were caught outdoors.

SPEAKER_00

Were they in the dust bowl too?

SPEAKER_02

So if you were caught outdoors, you wrapped your arms across your face and like bent into the wind, hoping that you could make it 10 feet without losing direction.

SPEAKER_00

Oh fuck, yeah. I mean, that that had to be shitty too, because all of a sudden, like, wait.

SPEAKER_02

And then more than one farmer would walk straight past his gate because he couldn't even see where the gate was. So inside the house, it obviously became like a bunker. Rags were shoved into door cracks, newspapers were were tacked over window frames, wet sheets were hung across openings in a desperate attach uh uh attempt to catch some of this dirt. Yeah, but the dust was persistent.

SPEAKER_00

It was relentless.

SPEAKER_02

Relentless. It found the smallest seam and worked through it like it was the mummy from the from the it was like the mummy from the movie The Mummy with Brennan Fraser, and he would like go through the keyhole.

SPEAKER_00

Again, national treasure. National treasure. Brennan Fraser. Brennan Fraser, yeah. Here's the mummy for. That has been so I really, really hope everything I'm hearing is true.

SPEAKER_02

With Oded Fair coming back?

SPEAKER_00

He fucking better. He's so dreamy. If you haven't seen The Mummy with Brendan Fraser, then you haven't listened to other ones where we've talked it up.

SPEAKER_02

So anyways, Hazel remembered how her mother tried to keep the dust out when she was growing up. She said, quote, mom said she had every crack stuff with rags and she would wet them down. She'd hang sheets over everything where dust might come in, but it didn't keep it out. It would come in somewhere, end quote.

SPEAKER_01

Sure.

SPEAKER_02

And it always came in somewhere. Yep. It sifted down from the ceilings, it rose through the floorboards. You could see it drifting in lamplight like smoke from a fire that never quite went out. Jesus. Women swept until their backs ached, which if you know, you know it doesn't take long for your back to ache after that. They wiped down tables again and again. They cooked their meals under under blankets. Oh my god.

SPEAKER_00

Fuck.

SPEAKER_02

Flour was mixed with grit. Coffee tasted like soil. If you were to spoon beans from a from a bowl, there would always be like this layer of brown that settled um underneath.

SPEAKER_00

Oh, it's so gross.

SPEAKER_02

Children stopped playing outside, their throats started burning, their eyes watered constantly. Um, many developed hacking coughs that would linger for weeks. Sure. Some coughed until their ribs hurt. Have you ever had that? It's painful.

SPEAKER_00

Excuse me, it's it's the fucking. Worst. I hate that shit.

SPEAKER_02

Doctors began using a new phrase. Dust pneumonia. It wasn't a cold, it wasn't bronchitis. It was dust. It was lungs overwhelmed by the sheer volume of fine particles inhaled day after day.

SPEAKER_00

Well, that's the thing. You can't have so much dust in your lungs. You can't, I mean, you shouldn't have any, honestly, but it's like mesothelioma. What is it called?

SPEAKER_02

Mesothelioma.

SPEAKER_00

Is that what it is?

SPEAKER_02

Fuck up, I know. Parents would lay awake at night listening, listening for the sound of a cough from their kids. Um, a cough that might sound deeper than the rest. Um, listening for that moment when that irritation might become something worse.

SPEAKER_00

Wow, that's wild.

Aftermath, Exhaustion, And Resolve

SPEAKER_02

Obviously, livestock fared no better. Cattles would turn, turn their backs to the wind, standing motionless for hours as dirt packed into their little nostrils. Sheep suffocated in drifts, chicken were found dead beneath layers of dust that had filled their coops. And some mornings, farmers walked out into the fields and found that calves were half buried where they had laid down the night before, having never risen again.

SPEAKER_00

That's crazy.

SPEAKER_02

Oh, it breaks my heart. Um, the economic strain tightened alongside this environmental one. So wheat prices, like I said, had collapsed after World War I.

SPEAKER_00

Yep, yep, yep.

SPEAKER_02

And as you said earlier, now we are in the Great Depression.

SPEAKER_00

Which does not make things better.

SPEAKER_02

Banks had failed and credit disappeared. Farm mortgages came due, whether crops grew or not. Families had borrowed money during the boom years, now found themselves unable to make these payments. Yep. Um, sheriff sales were common. Um, auction notices were were um tacked offense posts, entire farmsteads sold off for fractions of the the cost. Yep. And many people kept planting.

SPEAKER_00

Because they didn't know better and they they thought they had to, because this is hey, we need to make money. So this is what we gotta do. We gotta let's do it.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

They didn't know.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, they didn't. It sounds irrational from this distance, obviously. But from inside it, it made moved. Yeah, and it made desperate sense to them. If you didn't plant, you literally had no chance at all. It's like if you wake up in the middle of the night and you're like, I should get up, but if I get up, then I have zero chance of falling back to sleep.

SPEAKER_00

What? What? Like I did.

SPEAKER_02

What?

SPEAKER_00

Like I did.

SPEAKER_02

What what happened with you?

SPEAKER_00

There are times, for some reason, I'll wake up and be like, all right, time to go to the work.

SPEAKER_02

Time to go to work. Oh no.

SPEAKER_00

And Sarah will be like, Brad, what are you doing? Like, I gotta go to work. Like, no, it's 11:30. Like, I've been asleep for two fucking hours, two and a half hours. Yesterday. Yeah. I did that Thursday night, but then she didn't catch me the second time when I woke up in the same night. In the same night, but a couple hours later, I woke up, I think it was 1.10, if I'm not mistaken. Oh no. Got up, turned the shower on, started getting my stuff ready, and I'm like, I get showered and everything, and I'm like You're already showered. Oh, it's 1.30.

unknown

What the fuck?

SPEAKER_00

So I just went to work. That's the one nicest thing about my job is I mean You can just go in. Minus the one that wasn't open. Because it was so fucking early. Anyways, yes. So anyways.

SPEAKER_02

But yeah, it's like if you if you don't plant crops, then 100% you're not gonna grow crops.

SPEAKER_00

No, so they they did this because hey, we need to make money. So we gotta plant this shit, whether it's dusty or not, let's fucking do it. They didn't know. They didn't know, they didn't know, like, hey, we should probably get some irrigation going on up in this bitch.

New Deal Soil Conservation

SPEAKER_02

So if the rain came after they planted, you know, even once, maybe they could salvage something, something, maybe they could make a payment, maybe they could hold on for a near, so they plowed again, breaking up this little grass that had tried to return. Yeah. And when the wind came, the more it took. So by 1934, the storms were growing more frequent and more intense.

SPEAKER_00

So I don't know if you get into this. Sorry if you don't. Do they have an explanation why these storms were so prevalent at this time? So the wind is gonna come no matter what year you're which I get, but it just seems all about that grass being taken out and that soil being you go there a hundred years ago, you go there today. It's roughly the same, but obviously now there's irrigation and so on and such whatever. Yeah. It's just that's what the climate is in this region.

SPEAKER_02

Literally, the only reason why it was so bad was because they removed the grasses. Yeah, yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Of all the over farming at that time. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Over over farming might not be the proper term, but it's over farming under fucking um irrigation, properly doing it. Right. If you will.

SPEAKER_02

It was very topical, very yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. So the number of black blizzards, as they were called, increased dramatically.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

In some towns, visibility dropped to zero dozens of times in a single year. There were days when drivers stopped in the middle of roads because it because they couldn't see the hood in their of their own car. Jesus. More than one accident occurred when vehicles simply ran into each other in the darkness. Electricity flickered and died. Many people actually died of um CO2 poisoning in their homes because all they had was kerosene lamps.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah. Yeah. Oh, that makes sense.

SPEAKER_02

Um, static would build up in the air so strongly that people re reported small shocks every time they had to touch something metal.

SPEAKER_00

So you see the lightning?

SPEAKER_02

That's fucking weird. Have you ever done that? Yes. Yeah. It's crazy. Um, at work at the chiropractor, I'm shocking people constantly.

SPEAKER_00

It's just with your talents.

SPEAKER_02

Oh, yeah. I'm gonna keep going. I'm not gonna even say what I was gonna say. Some said their radios cracked with um interference even when switched off.

SPEAKER_00

Because the it would create electricity to it. Yes. Wow, that's crazy. Really? That's fucking wild.

Staying, Leaving, And Identity

SPEAKER_02

By early 1935, people were exhausted. They had learned to recognize the subtle signals, the way the air felt before a storm, the faint shift in light. Um, they have developed routines. Close windows, wet sheets, gather children, cover mouth, whatever. Close your eyes. In early 1935, Hazel's infant daughter at this time, oh boy, Ruth Nell.

SPEAKER_00

Ruth Nell became ill.

SPEAKER_02

Little Ruthie became ill. Oh, not Ruthie. The air was thick with suspended soil. Indoors, the dust still hung like smoke. Hazel tried to seal the windows, dampen sheets, protect her child from the storms. But as I've already mentioned in great detail, this my apologies.

SPEAKER_00

No, don't apologize. That was amazing.

SPEAKER_02

The storm never stayed in outside.

SPEAKER_00

No, it it got through the cracks.

SPEAKER_02

Little Ruth Nell died of dust pneumonia.

SPEAKER_00

Oh, sad.

SPEAKER_02

Within hours, Hazel's grandmother. Oh shit, Grandma Lou also died two generations in this same small stretch of time. God, that's sad.

SPEAKER_00

That's too bad. And then I'm not trying to make light of the grandmother dying. Terrible. She lived her life. She lived her life. She lived the majority of her life, we'll say. But the baby had no fucking shot. That is fucking depressing.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Because you don't like to hear that. That is sad.

SPEAKER_02

So then on April 14th, the rains came. 1935.

SPEAKER_00

The rains came.

SPEAKER_02

After years of drought and dust. The rains came. The morning dawned clear. The sky was blue in a way that it hadn't been in so long. The birds were chilling. Yes, exactly. There's songs that were sung. Lyrics were written. Hallelujah's echo through the heavens.

SPEAKER_00

Exactly.

SPEAKER_02

The air felt gentle.

SPEAKER_00

Do you know why I said it that way?

SPEAKER_02

No.

SPEAKER_00

Nicholas Cajun gone in 60 seconds. Said that. And he says part. It's like, don't you mean part? Anyways.

SPEAKER_02

People stepped outside cautiously as if testing whether it was safe to trust what they were what they saw.

SPEAKER_00

It was like, how are we being duped today?

SPEAKER_02

So people would take out their rugs and like and shook them out. Yeah. Some open windows to let the clean air in. What does this sound like to you? As in an episode that we have done, where all of a sudden weather has been shit, then all of a sudden we've got a clear day.

SPEAKER_00

Sounds like the the children's blizzard.

SPEAKER_02

Blizzard of 1885. If you want to look that up, people, it's episode number 37. It is called Unreasonably Warm because I couldn't say unseasonably at the time. So for a few hours, there was a reprieve.

SPEAKER_00

Just a few hours.

SPEAKER_02

But just like the blizzard of 1888.

SPEAKER_00

It comes back with a fucking vengeance.

SPEAKER_02

With a vengeance. That morning dawned cleared and blue. The sky looked innocent, and laser would hazel. Did I say laser?

Lessons From The Dirty Thirties

SPEAKER_00

You fucking did. Laser, laser, taser. Sounds like we're in fucking dodgeball.

SPEAKER_02

Hazel laser. No. Would later remember how that day felt. She was preparing for a double funeral.

SPEAKER_00

I'm glad you didn't say homicide.

SPEAKER_02

The procession carrying her grandmother's body left Boise City. Hazel and her husband Charles stayed behind, unwilling to leave their baby's body unattended. Okay.

SPEAKER_00

Because the wolves, am I right? We don't know. Coyotes.

SPEAKER_02

No one yet knew that what was forming to the north would become a storm that everyone would remember. Oh dear. And everyone would end up calling Black Sunday.

SPEAKER_00

Black Sunday, okay.

SPEAKER_02

It would feel different from anything else before. The air began to change around noon, just like in the blizzard of 1888. It was around noon.

SPEAKER_00

And then it's funny you said 1888 there. You said 1885 earlier.

SPEAKER_02

Sorry, 88. It's 1888.

SPEAKER_00

I know. And I was gonna correct you, but I'm like, I don't I hope I'm not wrong.

SPEAKER_02

No, you're no that yeah, it's 88. Um, and no one could have predicted exactly what was coming, but many felt that something bad was coming.

SPEAKER_00

They they felt it was an ominous thing.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, um, there was a subtle shift in pressure, a faint coolness. Um, and along the northern horizon, excuse me, along the northern horizon, the sky darkened in a way that did not resemble the norm. The norm. Well, their norm.

SPEAKER_00

You know what I mean.

SPEAKER_02

It was thicker than that, it was more solid, as though something immense had risen from the earth itself. The line on the horizon was too straight, too dense to ignore, and then it began to move.

SPEAKER_00

Fucking hell.

SPEAKER_02

And on that note, I have to pee.

SPEAKER_00

We'll be right back. And we're back. Do you feel relieved?

SPEAKER_02

I do.

SPEAKER_00

Are you not entertained?

SPEAKER_02

So, what rolled south that afternoon was not simply another dust storm.

SPEAKER_01

Yes.

SPEAKER_02

It was a wall. Oh, fuck. Say it low. Fuck. No, I meant the wall. Oh. The wall. No, not good. The club. The clock. Witnesses would later say that it looked like a mountain range advancing towards them or like an ocean wave suspended in the sky. I know exactly what they're talking about because sometimes when I go into work, I go to the east, which is towards Lake Michigan, and you can see clouds on the horizon, and it literally looks like mountains. It's crazy. Yeah. So the wind hit first, sharp and cold, carrying a low roar that built into something mechanical in force. Within minutes, the blue sky had um offered just shattered hope. That disappeared between like this towering curtain of soil. Yeah. Daylight collapsed into nightness, darkness, and nightness. Nightness and gonna just drive on past.

SPEAKER_00

We can't let that one go. Daylight turned into nightness.

SPEAKER_02

Black Sunday overtook everything. Men shouted shouted to their children to get inside. Women slammed doors and plus pressed blankets up against the windows. Cars were abandoned alongside roads. Um, and that was that wasn't even the start of it. Because then the dirt came. Oh fuck. So it slammed against houses in sheets and surged over rooftops and the roof rooftops.

SPEAKER_00

Who's rooftop?

SPEAKER_02

Hey, Mrs. Ruthtop, we're ready for the CU now. It forced its way into chimneys and through cracks that had already been packed tight with rags. Yep. And newspaper from previous storms. The wind howled with such force that it seemed to vibrate through the walls and the floorboards. Inside homes, the air grew so thick that even lamp light struggled to cut through it.

SPEAKER_00

It's fucking wild.

SPEAKER_02

Dust scratched your throats and filled your nostrils. Handkerchiefs were tied across faces, and claws, wet claws were pressed against mouths. And in certain towns, the darkness lasted for hours, so complete that neighbors could not see one another across the narrow streets.

SPEAKER_00

So they can go.

SPEAKER_02

I'm still alive.

SPEAKER_00

Oh, that too.

SPEAKER_02

The storm lingered until evening, merging into night as if the day had never even existed at all.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, it's probably like cool, another night. Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

So outside, sand and soil drifted deep against fences and buildings. In low-lying areas, a machinery and equipment were half buried by the time the wind began to weaken. It was not the first storm that these communities had endured, obviously, but something about this one was a little different. The earlier storms had been terrifying, but this was heavier, broader, darker, and less like an isolated event and more like a declaration of destruction. Yeah. So when it finally passed and the sky lightened to a dull exhausted gray, people stepped outside into a world that looked completely rearranged. Fence posts protruded awkwardly from fresh, fresh drifts, fields lay flattened until um into smooth wind sculpted structures. That's wild.

SPEAKER_00

That's crazy.

SPEAKER_02

Dirt pressed thick against doorways, forcing families to have to dig themselves out before they can fully re-enter the world.

SPEAKER_00

It's kind of like when you see blizzards. Yes. You know, and and and someone shows them opening a door and the fucking snow is halfway up. Exactly. Same fucking thing.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

That's fucking crazy.

SPEAKER_02

And the physical damage was damage was obvious, but the emotional damage was also really hard to measure.

SPEAKER_00

Right.

SPEAKER_02

Before that day, Manny had still believed that the dry the drought might break at any moment, that the storms were temporary interruption in this like grander cycle of years.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

And after Black Sunday, that belief thinned.

SPEAKER_00

Well, I would hope so.

SPEAKER_02

Conversations around the kitchen table had begun to change. Families calculated what they could sell and how far a tank of gas could take them. Others resolved just as quietly to stay and endure planting again when they could and attending meetings about new soil conservation methods.

SPEAKER_00

Well, I mean, that's a start because they fucking needed it, obviously, but damn. All right.

SPEAKER_02

Of course, the storms did not stop after that afternoon. They continued through the spring and into the the heat of 1936. Jesus. When temperatures soared and the land seemed to just bake underneath them.

SPEAKER_00

That sounds terrible.

SPEAKER_02

But April 14th, 1935, remained fixed in memory as the day the sky had fallen. The moment where when hope and fear collided under this wall of earth.

SPEAKER_00

Is that a tax day? No.

SPEAKER_02

No, I think it's the 15th, isn't it?

SPEAKER_00

That's what you said.

SPEAKER_02

April 14th. Was that was that Titanic Day?

SPEAKER_00

12th.

SPEAKER_02

Was it?

SPEAKER_00

I believe the 12th is right.

SPEAKER_02

From then on, every clear morning carried an age, an edge of uncertainty. Each breeze was measured, measured, and watched and interpreted. And people stepped outside carefully as if the world might suddenly be unstable beneath their feet. Um, the landscape looked stripped down to its bones. Fields that had once shown the faint promise of recovery were now scoured flat again. Their topsoil scattered into long, uneven drifts.

SPEAKER_00

That's crazy.

SPEAKER_02

Inside homes, the cleanup began the way it always did, slowly, methodically, almost ritualistically. Exactly. You could clean for hours and still see it floating in the air when they shaft a sunlight across the room. That's crazy. And while the dust could be drip brushed off a table, it could not be brushed out of the lungs. Doctors across the plains were already overwhelmed. But after Black Sunday, the number of respiratory cases climbed sharply.

SPEAKER_00

I'm sure it was exponential. Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Children coughed through the night. Elderly farmers struggled to draw breath even after short walks outside. Yep. Dust pneumonia became a phrase people understood without needing explanation. Crazy. Um, a cough that didn't go away, a fever that lingered, tightness in the chest. All serious. In some towns, um, makeshift clinics were set up in church basements or school houses.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, that makes sense.

SPEAKER_02

Nurses worked with limited supplies. Of course. They obviously advise families to keep doing what they're doing. Windows closed, dampened sheets, etc., etc. Yep. Medicine could treat symptoms, but not stop the wind.

SPEAKER_00

You can't stop Mother Nature. She's gonna keep fucking pounding your ass.

SPEAKER_02

And there's still the economic pressure.

SPEAKER_00

Correct, because they have all these bills.

SPEAKER_02

Banks were failing across the country as the Great Depression deepened. Correct. And rural communities felt it immediately. Yep. A farmer who had managed to scrape together a partial payment might find his bank closed the very next week.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Foreclosures increased, auction notices appeared nailed to posts along dirt roads, entire farms were sold in a single day.

SPEAKER_01

Yep.

SPEAKER_02

Um, but sometimes neighbors would would buy their neighbors' items at such low cost in hope that that family could buy them back.

SPEAKER_00

Right.

SPEAKER_02

Like that's genuine community and friendship, and just that's awesome.

SPEAKER_00

You know, something we don't have these days.

SPEAKER_02

Solidarity, yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, it's sad.

SPEAKER_02

By late 1935 and into 1936, the pattern became brutally familiar. Sure. Um, a brief stretch of calm would allow more planting. Um, sh green shoots might break through the soil, then the wind would return, and sometimes paired with this record-breaking heat at the same time. The summer of 1936 was one of the hottest in American history.

SPEAKER_00

Seriously? Jesus Christ.

SPEAKER_02

Temperatures climbed over a hundred degrees and held there for days at a time. Crops that had survived the dust would bolt under the sun. Yep. And the soil dried further, becoming finer and easier to lift. Night brought very little relief. Um, the houses trapped the day's heat. Families lay awake listening to coughing and the wind, scraping along the sides of the building. Psychologically, the exhaustion began to settle into something much deeper. No shit. It was difficult to describe what it does to a person living in this prolonged uncertainty to wake each morning unsure whether their sky would remain clear or collapse into darkness by afternoon.

SPEAKER_00

Or if their lungs were fucking empty.

SPEAKER_02

Exactly. So families would stop making long-term plans.

SPEAKER_00

Why would why wouldn't why would you make long-term plans? Seriously.

SPEAKER_02

Purchases were delayed indefinitely. Gardens went unplanted because they would there was no guarantee that they would survive even a week. Children grew up measuring time not by holidays or birthdays, but by storms. They would say, quote, before the big buster, or quote, after the last black blizzard. Jesus. Their memories would form around these weather events rather than milestones. Sure. But yet life continued. Schools kept opening each fall. Yep. Um, even students would arrive covered in dust. Churches still held services.

SPEAKER_00

That's the thing about the human race. We are fucking resilient, even with all these trials and tribulations. I mean, you gotta keep going.

SPEAKER_02

Women canned what little produce they could salvage. Men started attending meetings about new farming methods, listening to talk of contour plowing and soil conservation, even though it was kind of met with skepticism.

SPEAKER_00

Because they knew what they knew. Yep. They're like, eh.

SPEAKER_02

In 1935, the federal government began responding more directly. Um, soil conservation programs were finally introduced.

SPEAKER_01

Sure.

SPEAKER_02

Farmers were encouraged to plant cover crops and leave certain fields unsown to allow grass to return. Yeah. And most famously, um, FDR, who was president at the time, launched the Shelter Belt Project, um, which was over 2,000 miles of windbreaks. They would build um lines of trees as a windbreaker. Yeah. In the mid-1930s, um, crews and volunteer farmers planted more than 200 million trees from North Dakota to Texas fighting the wind directly. Sure. Those belts may never fully hold back a storm, but they have slowed erosion ever since.

SPEAKER_00

Well, yeah, that makes sense. They're not gonna stop it completely, but it's gonna help.

SPEAKER_02

It's gonna help a lot.

SPEAKER_00

For sure.

SPEAKER_02

For others, it did offer more of a thin ray of hope. Um, but government programs did not immediately change their daily life. The wind still blew and the dust still came. Of course, of course. The difference slowly was that people began to see these small shifts. Yeah. In areas where new grasses were planted, the soil held slightly better. Sure. Where contouring plowing was used, erosion less lessened. And still by the late 1930s, hundreds of thousands had left the plains. Oh, of course.

SPEAKER_00

You know that not everyone's gonna endure this. So, of course, there's gonna be some that leave, obviously. So, yeah, agreed.

SPEAKER_02

Old cars rattled westward along Route 66, loaded with mattresses, tools, children, whatever, whatever they had.

SPEAKER_00

Mattresses, tools, and children. I I guess, yeah, take that kit.

SPEAKER_02

Those who stayed watched neighbors disappear one by one, houses standing empty behind them. Yep. Hazel did not leave immediately. Her pride had run deep. Her family had homesteaded there. There they were pioneers, and leaving felt like a surrender. Yeah, for sure. But eventually, for the health of another child that she had. Oh, she did. Okay. Hazel and Charles relocated east, still within Oklahoma, but not in the panhandle. Not in the panhandle. They were I mean, technically it's still the panhandle, but it but hopefully they were thinking of more clear skies and stuff like that. Yeah. I don't think they quite made it there because pretty much all of Oklahoma panhandle was covered in the Dust Bowl. But anyways, I digress. Even as an old woman, she remembered the shock of black skies and the sound of sand against the windows.

SPEAKER_01

Yep.

SPEAKER_02

But her all but her tales also carried a strange pride. She said, quote, those were some of the toughest years I've ever had. And yet looking back, she confessed she almost missed life in No Man's Land.

SPEAKER_00

Really?

SPEAKER_02

Mm-hmm.

SPEAKER_00

Okay.

SPEAKER_02

For the families who stayed, survival required new expectations. They learned to live smaller, to value a calm day as a victory. When rain finally began returning more consistently towards the end of the decade, it did not feel triumphant. It felt a little bit more cautious. But fields slowly greened. The most catastrophic of the storms diminished. The sky more often than not stayed blue, but the dust bowl did not simply end and vanish from memory. It had reshaped the planes physically, economically, and emotionally. It had taught hard lessons about land, climate, and human confidence. It had carved into the identity of an entire generation.

SPEAKER_00

Which is crazy.

SPEAKER_02

And even when the wind quieted, people still would watch the horizon. Because once you have seen the sky.

SPEAKER_00

How could you just give that up? Seriously. You're gonna be like, uh fuck. Right?

SPEAKER_02

But because once you have seen that sky turn black at noon, you never quite look at it the same way again.

SPEAKER_00

There's no way.

SPEAKER_02

And that is the dirty thirties, the dust bowl.

SPEAKER_00

It's Wednesday.

SPEAKER_02

Isn't that awful?

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, I mean. Awful. So and again, I don't know if this is party research or whatever, but um obviously irrigation is a huge thing these days. That that's ahead of health, right, in that region.

SPEAKER_02

What is irrigation?

SPEAKER_00

That's just like putting water where you need it.

SPEAKER_02

Is it water or is it is it air? Like oxygen.

SPEAKER_00

Water.

SPEAKER_02

Is it?

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, basically.

SPEAKER_02

So like irrigation is the supply of water to land or crops to help growth, typically by means of channels. Good job.

Sign-Off And Calls To Action

SPEAKER_00

It's like I knew. You're so smart. You're so smart. I'm SMRT. SMRT. Well. Alright, buffoons. That's it for today's episode.

SPEAKER_02

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