That Cold Day in Hell . . . 54 years ago in 54 below weather . . .

The Day it was 54 Below in Minnesota

Written by Dorene and modified in August 1997

I’ve never been so cold in my life as I was that record cold day in January when I pumped water for the cows  on that farm in northern Minnesota where the cattle had to be watered by hand from a manual pump because we had no electricity or indoor plumbing. The bugger of it was, though, it was my turn that day to do it.  I was twelve years old and normally I really enjoyed the trip across the field to our neighbors hand pump where the cows drank from a bathtub as I pumped the water by hand to keep it filled.  Our twelve milk cows normally looked forward to the trip also as they had been pinned up in the barn for 24 hours and were thirsty and in need of exercise.  But not on this day.  They balked at even leaving their stalls and the closed in stench of the barn and go out into the cold 54 below weather, but after prodding they did go out and I let them wander in the barnyard while I went to the house and grabbed the kettle of boiling water off the stove, threw a wool scarf around it to keep it warm, wrapped another wool scarf, once more around my face and opened the gate calling for the cows to follow. 

They knew the routine and had a single file path from the gate to the pump about 3 city blocks away .  It was a path which I usually enjoyed walking as the patterns of hoofs by this time worn deep into the snow, each hoof mark precise and embedded as if there were really only one place to step and each hoof was set down oh so carefully so as not to slip off the patterned path into the soft snow which rose up to their bellies.  It was as if they understood that, to do so would cause them to sink deeply into the soft snow all around.  Each cow knew their place in line and aside from an occasional battle for the first drink, once we arrived, they were pretty docile.  They would drink their fill of cold water and then wait for the rest of the cows to finish before upon my command head back to the barn and the protection from the bitter piercing cold.  Today was different, however.  Today was 54 below and so cold that none of us wanted to be out, especially me.  I had to thaw the hand pump with the boiling water I had carried from the house. Carried in a teakettle wrapped in wool to keep from cooling to quickly and not being effective in the thaw.  I poured the still hot water on the pump and tried to move the handle.  Nothing moved.  Oh dear!  I tried again, pouring the more hot water down into the pump connection and the handle also.  Still nothing moved, so I poured the rest of the water on and prayed something would happen.  It finally moved and I pumped as fast as my skinny arms could move, knowing this was my last chance.  Somehow water actually began slowly seeping out and then a bit more and more.  But, being as cold as it was, it was freezing by the time it reached the tub so the cows had to each one put their mouth right up to the pump  spigot within 6 inches while I pumped water. And  so that is just what we did that day, each one looking with big moon cow eyes at me as I labored to get them their daily drink.  Each one, I am sure, just as anxious to go home as me.  My arms ached and seemed as if they would fall off they were so tired and yet I had to keep pumping so it didn’t freeze up again.  It was a day I would never forget as I pumped water for the cows that day, in the middle of nowhere…. where I grew up.  

Yes, it was a day, I tried hard to forget for many years after, but it is still piercingly vivid, and I still feel that intense cold as if I were reliving it when I think of it.  And these are the memories of that day when it was 54 below zero,. in northern Minnesota, on the farm, near Rako, where I grew up, with my three sisters, my brother and Mom and Dad.

I have since referred to that day as a “cold day in hell”. . . well. . I hope I never go there again.