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Life on the Frontier and Snowmaggedon: What Has Happened to Us?

I was privileged to take classes in History at Texas Lutheran (then College), and one of my professors in the History Department was a gentleman named Paul Carlson.  Dr. Carlson taught an excellent course titled "Frontier West," and he based his class on a writing done by a man named Frederick Jackson Turner.  The "Turner Thesis," as it is known, attributes the classic American mindset to the frontier.  America was a frontier that became inhabited by people seeking opportunity or escaping a past.  So, Americans have had, as the thesis teaches, a safety valve to escape and move on, away from whatever conditions a man found himself in. 

The opportunity to move to the outpost in West Texas came to our family in 2000, so after a visit or two, we decided it was the place to live (our wagon driver took us from Ft. Sedgwick to our own outpost several miles away - "Dances with Wolves.") Interestingly enough, Dr. Carlson had also moved out here from Seguin to teach at Texas Tech.  When we moved here, our guide told us that he was now the chair of the History Department at Tech.  Grateful, I have him a share of our provisions to get him back to civilization as we settled into our new adobe home made of sod and such.  That was how I viewed the move from Houston in some ways, coming to the last frontier in the state, only to be settled in the late parts of the 19th/early parts of the 20th century.  Of course, my thoughts were a little naive because Lubbock settled less than 100 years after Texas itself settled, so in terms of history, both are fairly young. Nevertheless, this is where settlers came and fought the elements, built sod houses, built forts, and is a place where real men came to be real men. 

(Okay, an historical acknowledgement, forts and such have been a part of our American history since Europeans came to the continent, so work with me on this.)

It is accurate to say that when people came to settle, they brought precious little with them.  What could fit into a wagon and was necessary for survival.  In fact, in the most recent issue of "Texas Monthly" has an article about Barry Corbin, actor, narrator, and West Texan. ("The Seven Ages of Barry Corbin," January 2021). Uncle Bob, as he was known in "Urban Cowboy" as Bud's uncle, notes that his mom was born in a wagon coming to West Texas (Lamesa specifically), so it's possible for the wagon to bear some items not part of the original inventory, but in truth, they brought little.  

Traditional commerce wasn't slow behind these pioneers, as Dr. Carlson notes, with hotels established early and goods and services following.  When I met with older folks when we first moved up here, I asked specifically about growing up on the South Plains, as they are called. Many, like Corbin's grandparents, came to farm. Surface water and ground water were in abundance at that time, so it was a great place to relocate to start a new life with acreage to farm.  So, as I asked folks about growing up, "coming to town" on the weekend from the farm, located away from the city, was a common place conversation. Railroads were also in abundance then, so the days of sod houses were replaced with wood frame homes out on the plains and in towns.  These folks had been electrified by FDR in the 1930s even in remote areas (some so remote that the roads today are still not "blacktopped" as you drive out).

In spite of modern conveniences, it still was rugged compared to today's standard. When we came out, we filled a moving van with our most essential stuff, and what couldn't be filled in that, we filled in a trailer that I towed behind my truck.  What couldn't be filled in that, came in Cindy's car along with the kids, and what couldn't be filled in that, we sold in a garage sale before we left.  However, the tale of the area is interesting indeed.  Paul Carlson speaks to the Lubbock Heritage Society annually and writes, so I find time to go and listen as they talk about the history of the South Plains, and yet, AND YET, in spite of the history of the area being brief and the rugged individuals who came to occupy it being just a few generations back, I have to ask as the threat of a snow storm comes upon us (or other acts of nature to be specific), "What in the hell happened to us?"

Apparently, somewhere in the last 100 years, the rugged culture, noted by canning foods, living off the land, coming to town and buying what you need has been replaced by a culture noted by, "It may snow two inches, best get to town and buy up the entire stock of goods because we may not be able to get there in one or two days." To make the situation worse, the oddity of this phenomenon can be based on just a forecast, so the panic that is set by the weather forecast can occur when there ends up being no snow, some snow, or a full snow (I'll follow up with storms and the potential for tornados at a later date).  When you talk to the store directors at the local grocer, they can tell you how swamped they get before an alleged storm hits.

And what confuses me is people stockpile for their potential two- or three-day isolation on the heels of stockpiling for COVID less than a year ago and in some cases hoarding household items, meat, and freezing bags of goods in freezers.  Just a question, but what on earth did you do with all that stuff you bought less than six months ago? Yet, as of this writing, there aren't enough trucks or truck routes to the Panhandle/Plains area fed by railroad, an airport, and highways/interstates to fill the shelves back in a week, or maybe even two. The stock was still low due to COVID (unless you want to consider using masks for tissue or toilet paper because those are well-stocked in an area where mentioning one may get you cast out of the fort and into the wilderness).

I could go on and on, but you are getting the idea.  An area maybe three or four generations from settling has moved millions of miles from the rugged individuals from the people who settled it.  And for some reason, something in the DNA of the area has it going to stores in advance of a mild weather phenomenon, like snow, as though we've been told that commerce will shut down for a full year before supplies resume, so stock up now.

Who knows? I'm no sociologist or anthropologist.  I'm certain our ancestors and predecessors would be aghast at much of what we call modern living.  The first element of what would cause their eyes to pop out would be helmets on kids on bikes with training wheels, but I'm sure there are more things that would have them shake their heads, travel back in time and refuse to reproduce because of what they saw in the future.  Look how far we've come, I'd exclaim as I showed them a cell device, but after a few minutes of looking at it and all it does, they'd toss it on the couch and ask where the horses are so they can ride the range and to see what needs to be inventoried.  I'd try to get them to stay and watch reruns on my satellite television, to which they'd say, "When do you find time to move around?  Why do you insist on sitting so much?"

Yes, for some reason, when I see the store getting swamped pre-storm (or threat), I just have to ask, "What in the hell has happened to us?"

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