‘A giant menacing funnel’

By Tom Hintgen (Contact) | The Daily Journal

Published 06:00 a.m., June 21, 2009

By late afternoon on Sunday, June 22, 1919, there was a weird rolling thunder in Fergus Falls that didn’t stop. Myrtle Danielson described it as "many steel drums rolling across the floor of a distant palace."

Then it started raining, according to Elmer Pauslon, "as big as dollars."

A cyclone struck the community, killing 56 people, injuring 160 others, and causing damage of $4.5 million. In all, the destruction covered 44 square blocks — two-thirds of the city of Fergus Falls.

“The term cyclone doesn’t mean tornado in the strictest sense,” says 1956 Fergus Falls High School graduate Lance Johnson who authored a book on the tragedy in his hometown. “A cyclone is a mass of clouds rotating counterclockwise as the result of a collision of two fronts, one warm and one cold, which in turn can spawn tornadoes.”

At least two tornadoes caused destruction in Fergus Falls on that fateful day, 90 years ago.

While many photos and stories remain after nine decades, Johnson’s book also is a story of what he terms “the tremendous courage” on the part of the people of Fergus Falls and how they rebuilt the community following the cyclone.

Complaints about the heat were endless in Fergus Falls during the week of June 16, 1919. The fashions of that year required people to be fully clothed, so people had to sweat it out while hoping for the winds to switch soon to the northwest, which always brought cooler and drier air.

On Saturday evening, June 21, the photoplay at the Lyric Theater was Mary Miles Minter starring in “A Bachelor’s Wife.” Tickets were 20 cents for adults and 10 cents for children. Servicemen returning from World War I and their dates filled both the Lyric and Bijou theaters every weekend in Fergus Falls.

Close to 4 p.m. on Sunday, June 22, the phone rang in the kitchen of the Grace Methodist Church on Cavour Avenue, just across the street from the high school and north of downtown Fergus Falls. A custodian answered the phone and the person on the other end said, “Dismiss Junior League and Bible reading. Storm coming.”

At 4:25 p.m., the Oriental Limited arrived at the Great Northern Railway Station. The western horizon was black and passengers came to the conclusion that they were not in for any ordinary storm. A few minutes later, west of town, a rope-shaped tornado tore into the middle of the train which came to a halt on an embankment.

Few train passengers, amazingly, were injured. They crawled out of train windows.

At 4:42 p.m. in Fergus Falls, a hailstorm dropped chunks of ice as large as baseballs. Farmers stood in their yards outside the city, watching as black clouds continued their journey toward Fergus Falls. For many of them, it looked like smoke from oilwell fires, according to author Johnson.

Suddenly, and without warning, the sky seemed to drop in the vicinity of Vine Street and Summit Avenue.

“A giant, menacing funnel moving northwest dipped out of the clouds to claw the earth,” wrote Johnson.

The funnel caused destruction and took lives near Lake Alice, Cleveland Avenue, North Union and other locations. A second funnel struck along Junius Avenue, south of downtown, and other areas.

“Cozy, dignified wood-frame houses were being scattered like ten pins,” wrote Johnson. “It grabbed the house of Charles Alexander, city attorney, and popped it open like a paper bag, dumping its contents on Alexander who was killed outright.”

Our Lady of Victory Catholic Church and its rectory were in the path of the twister. Its smothering updraft lifted out the entire center section of the church, leaving only the west and east ends standing. St. James Episcopal Church, on the southwest side of Lake Alice, was destroyed by the twister.

The first order of business for Mayor George W. Frankberg was to summon the local National Guard. Young men lost no time in getting into their uniforms and reporting for duty. Most of them gravitated to the Grand Hotel which had been toppled at the corner of Lincoln and Vine — where there also was loss of life.

Charles Kissinger’s house on East Vernon Avenue was damaged beyond repair. The rain gauge, which he used to report daily weather to the U.S. government, indicated 3.42 inches of rain had fallen in 30 minutes. His drugstore on West Lincoln Avenue had lost all of its front windows, but the firm opened for business almost immediately after the cyclone’s destruction ended.

Many power lines were destroyed, but electric generation still came from the Pisgah and Dayton Hollow hydroelectric stations, as well as from Hoot Lake station owned by Otter Tail Power Company. By late Monday morning, telephone service was restored.

By 2:30 p.m. Monday, 42 bodies were in place in the city’s three morgues. Many people were still missing, so the search continued. Later, 14 additional fatalities were reported.

The loss in homes was staggering. A count showed 159 homes destroyed and 194 sustaining 25 to 75 percent damage. People left homeless stayed with relatives and friends.

The injured were treated at St. Luke’s and Wright Hospitals as well as the State Hospital, which later became known as the RTC.

During reconstruction of Fergus Falls, “bigger and better” became a central theme. Building codes no longer allowed for wood-frame structures to be erected for public buildings. Park Superintendent A.T. Van Dyke planted flower gardens and trees along boulevards to help beautify the community.

Over the years, survivors of the cyclone said what sustained them most was their inner faith and support of fellow residents.

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