U.S. Highway 54 is officially closed from Liberal, Kansas, across Oklahoma, to Texhoma which is in both Oklahoma and Texas.?ÿ Ninety years ago that was an area famous for the Dust Bowl.?ÿ Today's closing is due to low visibility from blowing dust.?ÿ Here is a photo.
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One of the best books covering the topic. Inspired me to broaden my historical knowledge of Kansas and Oklahoma. Even now, when I find myself west of 100 degrees Longitude the landscape changes and I think of the hard times in the book... Still want to visit Boise City, OK one day just so I can put a visual to the story.
My dad was born on a cotton farm in the Texas panhandle in 1930, the youngest of 10 kids. When I was young, we heard lots of stories about the depression and the dust bowl.
The one that stuck in my mind was my dad saying " I was so poor when I was a little boy that if I hadn't been a little boy, I wouldn't have had anything to play with."
I still remember my mother setting the table for supper with the plates upside down during sandstorms. When you sit down to eat, you turn it over. It reduced the amount of dust you ate for supper.
Yesterday evening and last night were tough. Although it was a "clear" day it looked overcast, even with sixty mph winds. Visibility was around a quarter mile. I could taste the dust I had with my dinner...
My wife quipped, "Kansas called, they want their dust back".
No dust here, another 10-14" of snow and it's too cold for anything to blow around.
I could use some dust.
Occasionally here in OK with winter cyclones we get snow on the front side of the storm and then the dry "backside" ushers in the dust from western KS and eastern CO. It makes an ugly mess. Nothing like pristine snow that looks like someone spray-painted the entire landscape with a ruddy haze.
It was probably about 1966, give or take a few years, when Dad and I traveled out to check on the farm about 30 miles west of Guymon. US Hwy 54 passes through Guymon from NE to SW. Shortly after getting to the farm, we learned there was a major blizzard warning for the entire Oklahoma Panhandle. We could have been stuck at our renter's home for a few days if the predictions were correct. We got on the highway and headed east in hopes of making it to Guymon to find somewhere to spend the night. There is NOTHING between the Texas County line and Guymon but a few scattered homes. We were about 20 miles from Guymon when the highspeed snow heading south took the visibility down to less than 100 feet. At times it was effectively zero. A few times we met a vehicle headed west. That was terrifying at low speed. Several times we could tell there was a gap coming up. That would be a herd of cattle all bunched up by the fence on the north side of the highway. Somehow, we did make it Guymon. Every motel was already full of other stranded travelers. Dad finally found an ancient hotel that had people living in it every day. Nevertheless, we secured a room with a bathroom down the hall. Any port in a storm, they say. The highway patrol shut down the highways and would not allow anyone to leave town until after noon the next day. The snow depth was around one inch of accumulation but there were massive drifts to be cleared in some locations. Did not go back to the farm. Nearly 900 miles of driving and we saw the farm long enough to confirm it was still there.
I've driven no man's land in a snow storm. It's not for the faint of heart. My mind was full of thoughts like wondering what my body would like when they found me after the spring thaw. I found a new respect for religion.
Luckily an empty bull hauler, two other cars and state trooper joined me and we crept into Guymon from Boise City at 5 mph with the trooper's flashing lights. The storm lightened up east of Guymon. By the time I hit Slapout I had lost my new found religion and was happily rolling home.
Slapout is a veritable metropolis in that part of Oklahoma. The population in 2000 was listed as 4.
The land upon which part of the town sits was homesteaded by Joseph L. Johnston. It sits on the northwest corner of the land Johnson had acquired with a government claim in 1904, three years before Oklahoma became a state.
With the construction of Highway Three across Oklahoma during the Great Depression, Tom Lemmons, who had bought the Johnson homestead, moved a chicken coop to where the highway passed his land. In the chicken coop, he started a store. He told the Tulsa Tribune he had nothing else to do during the depression, so he thought he would start a town. He named his town Nye, after the Progressive U.S. Senator Gerald Nye (R-ND).
The name Slapout, according to local legend, came about because customers at the store in Nye were often told by Lemmon's sister that the store was "slap out" of whatever they wanted.[2] Tom Lemmons insisted his sister never used the phrase; however, the name stuck. When Tom continued to insist his side of the highway was called Nye, patrons responded that the south side of the highway could be "Slapout", and that the north side with Lemmon's store could be "Nye Out."
Tom Lemmons finally gave in when a tornado came through town and only took out his Nye sign. After that, both sides were known as Slapout. At one time, the town had 10 inhabitants and included the Hagan Grocery on the south side of the highway. Lemmons also built a building to house his rock collection.
Today, the gas station in the town is a regular stop for Tulsa and Oklahoma City residents traveling to Colorado.
The town was featured in a newspaper photo essay by Robert R. Mercer in the Tulsa Tribune in the 1970s.
Who knew? Cool. You were always good for a "rest of the story" style yarn.
I remember the Slapout store from the early sixties. We lived in CO but drove back to OK for holidays. Prior to the interstates we'd drive up through Guymon to Kenton and into NM and up to Raton. I know for a fact that in 1962 to store in Slapout had a two-holer out back for customers.
I was through there in the late '90s and it appeared as though the store was nailed shut. But thankfully in the early 00's it sprang forth again.
Long may it reign.
