Sec. B Pg 31 Missoulian Centennial ‘A Night of Terror’

‘A Night of Terror’

Under the heading “A NIGHT OF TERROR: Frightful Experience of a Pair of Missoulians on the Lo Lo Grade,” the following story appeared in Missoula on July 6, 1892:

Monday night’s terrific thunder-storm, while doubtless pleasant to witness from the veranda of a comfortable dwelling, proved a source for no little terror to some of those who were forced to breast it in the open country. A pair of fishermen returning from the Lo Lo were caught in the midst of the furious elements and their experience is one, they state, they will not soon forget. They reached the summit of the precipitous Lo Lo grade as the storm in its might overtook them at a point where it became impossible to either advance or retreat.

The incessant peals of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning so frightened the animal they were driving that it required the utmost efforts of both occupants of the carriage to prevent him from jumping the embankment below which the turbulent Bitter Root River coursed along. The night was intensely dark and during the intervals of the lightning’s flashes the travelers could not see each other, though but three feet apart.

The rain came down in torrents making the clayey roadway so slippery that foothold was impossible. Added to this came the water in rivulets from the sidehill, bringing with it brush and gravel, which at times forced the vehicle so near the embankment as to necessitate its being held by the wheels to prevent its going over. Chaos reigned and the travelers were at a loss as to how to proceed.

Dire calamity stared them in the face which was made more horrifying by a sudden stroke of lightning which shattered to splinters an immense pine tree just ahead of them and overhanging the grade. The heavy trunk swayed and careened, then with an intonating crash fell into the abyss below. Heaven’s artillery again resumed operations and again the rain poured. The grandeur and awful sublimity of the scene will never be forgotten by these gentlemanly fishermen and to say they made their peace with the Almighty right there and then, but barely expresses it.

However, the storm ended; the sullen clouds parted and the moon looked down as though in mockery. The bright light revealed nature as it was, and with stealthy steps the party proceeded on its way, thankful that Hamilton whisky had not a worse effect upon them. Drenched and scared, though safe, they arrived at Missoula at a late hour, fully impressed with the belief that a storm in the mountains is not a pleasant encounter.

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Posted by: Don Gilder on