MADreads

It’s never drought in the southern plains; it’s “drouth”

May 16th, 2007 Molly - Central

It’s probably not a good idea to read tales of drought in the Dust Bowl after reading several books about the Holocaust.  That much despair is not good for the psyche. 

However, if you are planning to read several Holocaust books, and are determined to follow up with a Dust Bowl book, I have a title to recommend.  National Book Award Winner, The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl by Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Timothy Egan is a surprisingly forward-progress type of book.  As with many accounts of the Holocaust, the sheer resilience of humans in such horrifying times is inspiring.  So, after reading several books about the mass destruction of people, societies, land, and wildlife, my psyche was shaken, but hopeful. 

The American Dust Bowl region, roughly comprised of Nebraska, western Kansas, southeastern Colorado, parts of New Mexico, northern Texas, and the Oklahoma Panhandle, experienced one of the worst ongoing natural disasters in our country’s history during the 1930s.  Stripped of its top soil due to savage over-farming and suffering from drought, the earth literally blew up and around for nearly a decade, covering everyone and everything in its path with a suffocating coating of dirt.  Black clouds of southern plains dirt rained down as far away as Chicago and the Atlantic Seaboard.  Crops failed, humans and animals died, farms folded, and towns crumbled, but the people soldiered on. 

At the same time, the Great Depression affected Americans country-wide, but the Dust Bowl states were hit especially hard and cruelly.  Dust pneumonia and other sickness because of the environment combined with the loss of all types of livelihood and resulting bankruptcy left the plains residents desolated.  Still, most of the families stayed on their land waiting for the storms to end.  These stories of the Dust Bowl are heartbreaking, tough and true, and a part of American history that will haunt you and leave you thankful for rain, fresh air and soil conservation.

Entry Filed under: Nonfiction