However; as with everything else there is so much more to the story, when you give thought to those who have to work, or just be outside in those conditions.
Memories of childhood reminds me of those mornings when we awoke to frozen pipes and no water. Dad was always out the door early to go take care of the wells and get his crew going to keep the equipment from freezing up, so getting the lines thawed out and the water moving again was up to Mom. The days were long and miserable. Precautions were taken…..Dad kept the pipes under the house wrapped in old rags and duct tape, and often times a faucet was left open to drip thru the night, but with the howling winds, below freezing temperatures, and none to poor insulation in those days, nothing could prevent the inevitable from happening. We did have a little heater Mom would set under the sink that would eventually get the water going again , but never as quickly as we wanted it to, so it seemed there was always a pan of water kept simmering on the stove….
Winter brought a multitude of problems, that would best be described as a period of survival. The first thing that comes to mind were trips to the outhouse because when one had to go, one had to go and it didn’t matter what the weather was like or how big or little you were. We happened to be more fortunate than others though, because Dad found a way to bury a little pipeline from one of the nearby wells to our outhouse so we kept a small gas heater going when the weather was at it’s worse, which normally kept it half way warm. Getting there was a different story though….. Out the back door, and down the sidewalk, it was located beside the wash house, and unprotected from the elements. One went through a whole process of making up your mind you simply could not wait any longer, dressing warmly including snow boots, and trudging through the snow drifts to arrive at the necessary destination. Being only a “one seater”, it was not large, so you did have to be careful with all the extra clothing that you kept anything loose away from the open flame heater, which of course did nothing to help the cold air from rushing in when the door was opened and lid raised. Before the heater, I can remember having to brush the snow off of the seat before having to make up your mind to set down on it. Also, because it was warmer than outside, you could never be surprised at what may have found their way in from the cold to join you. One could be greeted by a rat or a rabbit, or any one of many creatures, which usually scurried away quickly, but there was almost always a surprise visitor waiting. The goal was to hurry and get finished as quick as possible, before starting the journey back to the house. I do remember one especially bad blizzard where Dad strung a rope from the house to the outhouse so we could hold onto it and use it as a guide to get there and back through the drifts and blowing snow.
Being the closest oil field worker’s house within a several mile area, our home often became a haven for the roustabouts and roughnecks who needed to use the phone or find help in an emergency situation. Accidents in the winter time were matter of fact as the men wrestled with dangerous, frozen, and very uncooperative equipment… Layers of warm clothes and gloves were the mainstay to keep one from freezing, which made it difficult to get an old engine cranked, or a pipe connection made, requiring a sensitive mechanic’s touch, but being nearly impossible with layers of gloves and wrapping on the hands.
One morning we heard an unusual noise at the back door which sounded like an animal, and upon opening it there stood a monster! At least to a little girl it appeared to be a monster. It was the form of a man with ice hanging all over him…. His entire face was covered in snow with icicles hanging from his hair and cap, nose, ears and chin. His old, greasy coat was a block of ice with one arm of the coat ripped into shreds with blood mixing with the snow and ice chunks. He was cradling one arm in the other one and mumbled something through his frozen lips that he needed help. Mom called him by name and helped him into the house where she set him at the kitchen table, then proceeded to cut what glove was left, off of him, and get the coat removed and a blanket wrapped around him. She run a pan of cold water and made him stick both hands in it which quickly turned a bloody red while she run another pan full. This continued until he was able to stand when she led him to the kitchen sink where the loose skin was cut off his hand under cold running water. I just stood and stared at him, while an ointment dressing was applied and it was bandaged. I was afraid but very interested in how this monster came into our lives and what my Mom was doing to him and why she wasn’t afraid too. I was sure he couldn’t hurt us because he was so weak, but that didn’t make me totally comfortable. I was instructed to call the camp who got ahold of Dad on the base radio, who then came right home and helped the guy change into some of Dad’s dry clothes, and they then hauled him to town to see Doc. Wallace….He was only one of many “monster’s in ice” who came to our door including man and beast alike, of which all were brought inside and taken care of. It turns out this particular man was an oil field worker who had caught his gloved hand in an engine and he was very lucky it was not taken completely off, or that his whole self was not drug into the engine..... His pickup had refused to start, so he walked a couple of miles to our house for help as many before him and after him did.
Around Christmas time especially, there was always a ten gallon water can full of eggnog with “special flavorings” and spices kept outside the back door and a cup of it warmed to serve anyone who stopped by….. Hot, freshly baked goodies were made and served almost on a daily basis. There was always someone getting stuck or sliding off the road, or one of the area workers who couldn’t get his pickup started, or who needed to call for extra help out to one of the leases and would show up at our door on foot asking to use the phone.
With all of the misery of winter, it was also full of fun and beauty…..The trees along the creek were usually covered in ice resembling a winter wonderland and a place where any Santa would have been proud to call home. It held a mysterious aura as everything went to sleep and slumber. The creek itself changed into a strange shape as ice formed along the banks sending it in directions we’d never seen before. There was an ever changing appearance every time we drove across the bridge to town.
With all of the misery of winter, it was also full of fun and beauty…..The trees along the creek were usually covered in ice resembling a winter wonderland and a place where any Santa would have been proud to call home. It held a mysterious aura as everything went to sleep and slumber. The creek itself changed into a strange shape as ice formed along the banks sending it in directions we’d never seen before. There was an ever changing appearance every time we drove across the bridge to town.
Across the road from our house, we had an old well that fed into a slush pond at the bottom of the hill. A slush pond was a huge pit dug at the time the well was drilled and kept there to hold excess oil that spilled from the wells….. the hill it set at the bottom of, was our favorite sledding hill, but it didn’t take long to learn that we had to stop the sled before reaching the reaching the slush pond. More than once, I didn’t get stopped in time and went feet first right into the pond……Drenched in oil, my snow suit and boots were ruined, but that only made it all the more fun and challenging……
The big snows brought the opportunity of driving thru drifts on either side of the road higher than the cars, and snow caves made where ever one could find enough snow to make one. Our neighbors about 5 miles to the west and south had a real pond on their property where we learned to ice skate. Other winter activities included Icicles that were broken off the eaves of the house and measured between the kids in the neighborhood to see who had the longest. Making "snow" ice cream, snowmen and angles in the snow.
The big snows brought the opportunity of driving thru drifts on either side of the road higher than the cars, and snow caves made where ever one could find enough snow to make one. Our neighbors about 5 miles to the west and south had a real pond on their property where we learned to ice skate. Other winter activities included Icicles that were broken off the eaves of the house and measured between the kids in the neighborhood to see who had the longest. Making "snow" ice cream, snowmen and angles in the snow.
Dearest to my heart though of all the winter memories, are the men who made sure those rigs and old oil wells were kept running under inhumane circumstances so the rest of us could stay warm. Here’s to the monster’s in ice who carry on that job today……
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