From the San Antonio Texas Sentinel:

FREEZING WEATHER; HUGE

DAMAGE TO CROPS FEARED

From the Mexico Gaceta:

TEMPESTAD FURIOSA

MUCHOS DAÑOS; DESGRACIAS DIVERSAS

From the San José (Costa Rica) Prensa:

TIEMPO FRÍO É INOPORTUNO

On this day news about the weather was more important over the length of the continent than news of murders, strikes, politics, or international affairs. Although the individual man went on stolidly about his usual tasks, he in most cases resented this sudden change in his environment and considered it essentially local. His attitude of mind was primitive, as if he felt that some angry storm god had overwhelmed his own city and district for no better reason than a spiteful whim. He did not realize that the wind which blew upon his cheek was part of a planetary system. Rain in San Francisco, sun in Sitka, sub-zero weather in Calgary, a norther in Tampico, an east wind in Boston—their conjunction was as reasonable as that when one spoke of a wheel rotates all the others should rotate at the same time.

9

EXTRY! EXTRY! ! EXTRY! ! ! This is Ye Old-Time Newsy calling you the headlines over KTEY. And the first big news is that it’s a grand million-dollar rain. I’ve got the reports right here, and it’s just raining around everywhere you can think of. And another nice thing is that it’s been a big rain, but not too much in one place—not any big winds or cloudbursts, and so, not much damage. But—uh-uhh—this isn’t so good. “Peter Goslin, salesman for a flour company, was killed today when his automobile skidded on a wet pavement and overturned ten miles south of Colusa. State-patrolman Hardy who investigated the accident declared that death must have been instantaneous.” That’s the first casualty of the storm, folks, and maybe we’d better all make a note just to drive a little slower the next day or so.

10

When he sighted the broken wire through the flying snow, Rick edged the little green truck to the side of the highway, and parked it carefully.

Just getting started at all was something of a job. The rotaries had cut a four-foot sheer wall of snow along the road, and farther back the snow was heaped up still higher. Rick first laid his skis and ski-poles up on the snow-surface. Next he loaded himself with his wire and climbers and tools. Then, using the fender for a starting-place, he scrambled and floundered up; he ended by being more or less on top of the wall, but hip-deep in soft snow. After more floundering he strapped his skis on, climbed out of the hole, and got going. By this time the parts of him that had not actually been buried in the snow were well covered by the hard-driven flakes which the storm was blowing in.