Wild Winter Weather - Significant Historical Weather Events in Cibola County
Posted: Friday, February 3, 2012 - Paul Milan, Historical Society - for the (*former) Cibola Beacon paper
The old timers have told me stories about the big snow during the winter of 1931-32. My father, who was living in Gallup, told me that there was so much snow that it had stacked up all around town. The streets were plowed and the piles were higher than the automobiles. The ice that had formed did not finish melting until July.
My grandfather, Silvestre Mirabal, told my father that it was impossible to get his livestock down from the mountains and he had decided to just leave them there. Other stockmen were renting the railroad that was used for logging up in the Zuni Mountains to bring them down to the Bluewater Valley.
Since there was no feed for them the livestock starved and froze to death and there were carcasses all over the valley.
Abe Pena talked about that big snow during an interview at the Grants State Bank’s 50th anniversary and recalled that his father had just shipped his crop when the snow started. He said his dad was one of the lucky ones.
Mrs. Brown from Ramah talked about the storm and indicated that they were coming back from either school or a dance and had to take refuge at a ranch to wait out the storm because they could not see or walk in the storm. She remembered that many Navajo families were out harvesting pinons and were stranded and search parties were sent out to rescue them.
My Uncle Monico Mirabal told me that his father sent him with the cowboys out to see if any animals were left. Although they lost one-half of the sheep and cattle herds, they felt luckier than the stockmen that hauled them down to the Bluewater Valley. My uncle said that they found piles of dead sheep stacked against the fences. He said that there was so much snow that the canyons were covered and the animals walked across the canyons.
They sank through the snow and when it melted the trees were decorated with carcasses of sheep and cattle. He said that they looked like Christmas tree ornaments. They also had trouble with starving bears attacking and killing the sheep.
The workers spent their time butchering the sheep that were still alive and taking them to San Rafael to help feed the people. The only problem was that it was in the middle of the Great Depression, there were no food stamps, unemployment checks, the banks had closed during the Bank Holiday, no electricity, no snowplows, no telephones, no paved highways, no propane, and no
supermarkets.
The end of the first 100 years in New Mexico brought a significant historical weather event. Cibola County had two snowstorms that caused the area to be on the state and national news for having the coldest weather for the last two weeks, especially in New Mexico. The area was hit with 12 inches of new snow and on top of the original snow pack that created a freezer effect, which beat all other locations in New Mexico for having the coldest weather.
That was one the first times that Cibola County made headlines because of the weather.
On Nov. 4, 1972, an article and a photo appeared in the Uranium Reporter with the caption, “Where’s Fall?” The reporter indicated that the picture was a typical Grants’ scene during the week when a snowstorm moved in to dump about 10 inches of snow while the trees were still green. The reporter noted that it only pointed out the rule in New Mexico: “You walk in water up to your ankles and kick up dust.”
In March 1967 a weekend blizzard closed Highway 66 from Friday to Monday and stranded more than 1,000 people. They were given shelter by schools, churches, and individual homes. The houses in Milan were completely covered with snow and automobiles could not get in or out. My wife and I were managing the Milan Motel and customers had to dig their way to the rooms. Strangers were sharing rooms and truckers were lined up to rent rooms. Trucks that carried nuclear supplies had to be kept running twenty-four hours a day to maintain a certain temperature.
I did get a call to notify a motel guest about a death and since there were no telephones in the rooms it took what seemed to be at least one hour to get to the customer and get him back to his room. The scariest part of this ordeal was that the town was running out of beer and the restaurants out of food and that made the truckers restless and angry. When the snow melted the whole area was covered with beer cans.
We did not close the Grants State Bank that Friday evening because we were worried about the customers who normally do business on Friday evenings. We took the women home and three of us men stayed until the 7 p.m. closing time.
We had only one customer between 4-7 p.m. Bishop Clifford Young from Bluewater had a construction project on the Navajo Reservation and he drove from the reservation to the bank to make his monthly payment.
Reporters as far away as New York were calling to interview us about the weather conditions.
I believe that in 1968, when I was the Milan Motel manager, I was awakened by a customer asking me at what time were the service stations opened. I told him at 7 a.m., and he said, “It was 9 a.m.”
I noticed that the station’s smoke stacks were not spewing out smoke. He mentioned that he could not start his car and I said I would give his car a push. Unfortunately none of the family cars would start because all the batteries were dead. None of the cars in the Village of Milan would start and it was about 2 p.m. when the village got one of their trucks started and they drove around town starting all vehicles.
We found out later that the temperature was 52 degrees below zero. Many of the miners were stranded at the mines and the next shift could not get their cars started to relieve the earlier shift. It was reported that the temperature at Ambrosio Lake was 62 degrees below zero.
Editor’s Note: Paul Milan, a longtime Cibola County resident, is a member of the Cibola County Historical Society.
The old timers have told me stories about the big snow during the winter of 1931-32. My father, who was living in Gallup, told me that there was so much snow that it had stacked up all around town. The streets were plowed and the piles were higher than the automobiles. The ice that had formed did not finish melting until July.
My grandfather, Silvestre Mirabal, told my father that it was impossible to get his livestock down from the mountains and he had decided to just leave them there. Other stockmen were renting the railroad that was used for logging up in the Zuni Mountains to bring them down to the Bluewater Valley.
Since there was no feed for them the livestock starved and froze to death and there were carcasses all over the valley.
Abe Pena talked about that big snow during an interview at the Grants State Bank’s 50th anniversary and recalled that his father had just shipped his crop when the snow started. He said his dad was one of the lucky ones.
Mrs. Brown from Ramah talked about the storm and indicated that they were coming back from either school or a dance and had to take refuge at a ranch to wait out the storm because they could not see or walk in the storm. She remembered that many Navajo families were out harvesting pinons and were stranded and search parties were sent out to rescue them.
My Uncle Monico Mirabal told me that his father sent him with the cowboys out to see if any animals were left. Although they lost one-half of the sheep and cattle herds, they felt luckier than the stockmen that hauled them down to the Bluewater Valley. My uncle said that they found piles of dead sheep stacked against the fences. He said that there was so much snow that the canyons were covered and the animals walked across the canyons.
They sank through the snow and when it melted the trees were decorated with carcasses of sheep and cattle. He said that they looked like Christmas tree ornaments. They also had trouble with starving bears attacking and killing the sheep.
The workers spent their time butchering the sheep that were still alive and taking them to San Rafael to help feed the people. The only problem was that it was in the middle of the Great Depression, there were no food stamps, unemployment checks, the banks had closed during the Bank Holiday, no electricity, no snowplows, no telephones, no paved highways, no propane, and no
supermarkets.
The end of the first 100 years in New Mexico brought a significant historical weather event. Cibola County had two snowstorms that caused the area to be on the state and national news for having the coldest weather for the last two weeks, especially in New Mexico. The area was hit with 12 inches of new snow and on top of the original snow pack that created a freezer effect, which beat all other locations in New Mexico for having the coldest weather.
That was one the first times that Cibola County made headlines because of the weather.
On Nov. 4, 1972, an article and a photo appeared in the Uranium Reporter with the caption, “Where’s Fall?” The reporter indicated that the picture was a typical Grants’ scene during the week when a snowstorm moved in to dump about 10 inches of snow while the trees were still green. The reporter noted that it only pointed out the rule in New Mexico: “You walk in water up to your ankles and kick up dust.”
In March 1967 a weekend blizzard closed Highway 66 from Friday to Monday and stranded more than 1,000 people. They were given shelter by schools, churches, and individual homes. The houses in Milan were completely covered with snow and automobiles could not get in or out. My wife and I were managing the Milan Motel and customers had to dig their way to the rooms. Strangers were sharing rooms and truckers were lined up to rent rooms. Trucks that carried nuclear supplies had to be kept running twenty-four hours a day to maintain a certain temperature.
I did get a call to notify a motel guest about a death and since there were no telephones in the rooms it took what seemed to be at least one hour to get to the customer and get him back to his room. The scariest part of this ordeal was that the town was running out of beer and the restaurants out of food and that made the truckers restless and angry. When the snow melted the whole area was covered with beer cans.
We did not close the Grants State Bank that Friday evening because we were worried about the customers who normally do business on Friday evenings. We took the women home and three of us men stayed until the 7 p.m. closing time.
We had only one customer between 4-7 p.m. Bishop Clifford Young from Bluewater had a construction project on the Navajo Reservation and he drove from the reservation to the bank to make his monthly payment.
Reporters as far away as New York were calling to interview us about the weather conditions.
I believe that in 1968, when I was the Milan Motel manager, I was awakened by a customer asking me at what time were the service stations opened. I told him at 7 a.m., and he said, “It was 9 a.m.”
I noticed that the station’s smoke stacks were not spewing out smoke. He mentioned that he could not start his car and I said I would give his car a push. Unfortunately none of the family cars would start because all the batteries were dead. None of the cars in the Village of Milan would start and it was about 2 p.m. when the village got one of their trucks started and they drove around town starting all vehicles.
We found out later that the temperature was 52 degrees below zero. Many of the miners were stranded at the mines and the next shift could not get their cars started to relieve the earlier shift. It was reported that the temperature at Ambrosio Lake was 62 degrees below zero.
Editor’s Note: Paul Milan, a longtime Cibola County resident, is a member of the Cibola County Historical Society.
