Cyclone survivor passed along memories to son

By Tom Hintgen (Contact) | The Daily Journal

Published 09:51 a.m., June 22, 2009

Hank Rasmussen, a 1966 graduate of Fergus Falls High School who now lives in Roanoke, Va., knew a lot about the cyclone that struck his hometown 90 years ago today, on June 22, 1919. That’s because his late father, Hank Sr., lived through the cyclone and its aftermath.

“Dad was born Aug. 8, 1898, and was about six weeks short of his 21st birthday during the 1919 cyclone, said Rasmussen. “As I recall his stories, Dad was working downtown at the Christiana Cafe when the cyclone struck.”

While the younger Rasmussen was growing up, during the 1950s and 1960s, his father was always on high alert for summer storms. He especially wanted to be prepared for tornadoes, also known as cyclones. 

The older Rasmussen would frequently say, "I lived through the cyclone of 1919 and it was awful. You just don't know until you've been through it." 

When Hank, Sr., and his wife, Eleanor, remodeled their house at 611 North Cleveland in the late 1950s, the change allowed for the elder Rasmussen to have his real estate office located there. He had a storm shelter built in the northwest corner of the basement.

“The shelter had poured concrete walls and ceiling reinforced with steel bars (rebar) at least eight inches thick,” said the son. “Of course this was the Cold War era of duck and cover and bomb shelter buildings. But Dad said that our shelter couldn't be a bomb shelter since it had a wooden door and an old piece of down spout for an air passage. It was a storm shelter from cyclones." 

He recalls going to the shelter about twice over the next few years when he still lived at home. 

“It was cold, damp and boring,” said Rasmussen. “However, the shelter made a good storage area for Mom's canned goods, preserves and other kitchen goods.”

Hank Rasmussen, whiling hearing about 1919 cyclone stories from his father, recalls seeing many of the cyclone photos that were housed, prior to 1972, at the lower level of county Court House just south of downtown Fergus Falls. Laura Dunlap was the director of the museum.

“Since I grew up attending Bethlehem Lutheran Church, across the street from the Court House, I walked through the museum quite often,” he said. “Sometimes my neighborhood playmates, especially Pete Ellingson or Rich Oxley, and I would ride our bikes down to the Court House museum.” 

Paul Brooberg, son of the late Sheriff Russell Brooberg, was a good friend of Rasmussen.

“We went to grade school together at Washington, and on occasion we’d walk through the museum,” said Rasmussen. “As kids, we had time to kill.”

He remembers the pictures showing so much of Fergus Falls flattened as though it had been struck by a bomb.

“Those photos of the 1919 cyclone reminded me of the photos of World War II in Europe,” he said. “I also saw a lot of destruction during my time as a Marine in Vietnam and other areas of Southeast Asia.”

His father, Hank, Sr., operated Rasmussen Cafe in the old Brandon building across from old fire hall/city hall, prior to his days in the real estate business.

“To this very day I remember Ken Hovland, Bill Nelson, Arvid Gunderson, Wally Bjorklund and many others who came in for coffee or lunch,” he said. “The 1950s was a very special time of my life.”

His grandparents lived about three or four blocks north of the Rasmussens on Cleveland Avenue.

“Neighboring cousins were Walt, Hazel (nee Rasmussen), and Richard Mavis and Aunt Ellen Rasmussen and cousin Frank Rasmussen (another former Marine) on Cherry Avenue,” said the younger Rasmussen. “They would talk during summer picnics about the straw shaft that stuck straight into one of the old trees in Grandpa's back yard from the cyclone of 1919. How awful it was, but how the city came back to life.”

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