Braving deep snow, invisible ice and sharp cold, Mokena finds itself in the midst of a particularly nasty, biting midwestern winter. Looking back into our recent past, it’s easy to remember the Groundhog’s Day Blizzard of 2011, or Snowmageddon, as it’s been so dubbed by those of us who lived through it, and be thankful that things this time around aren’t quite as nasty as they have been. Nevertheless, that last big storm ten years ago, which looms so dauntingly in our collective memory, doesn’t hold a candle to several other catastrophic snowfalls in our past. Examining the pages of history, several other blasts of frozen vapor stand out on the record of the years.
The worst blizzard to hit Mokena in documented history was on January 26th and 27th, 1967, when a paralyzing 23 inches of snow landed on the village. Blustery 50 mile per hour winds created massive drifts that measured 15 feet. On the first day of the storm, Mokena teacher Dolores Barenz had reported for work at St. Mary’s School on 195th street. By the time she got settled in, the snow had already begun in earnest and conditions on the roads around town were only getting worse. She was gathered with her fellow staff members, all commiserating on the rapidly worsening situation, when Father Cecil Koop appeared, wondering what the fuss was. Upon reflecting with the teachers, he made the decision to cancel class, and posted himself at the entrance to the school directing busses to take students home. Deep was the concern, as some of them had to be taken to Frankfort and Lincoln Estates, no small feat in the quickly deteriorating situation. Dolores and Marion Kruzich, her next-door neighbor and fellow teacher, followed each other home to Center Street, where Dolores’ car got stuck fast as soon as she got into her driveway. That night, the families hunkered down in the Barenzes basement, where a potluck dinner with Kruziches and the Weitendorfs, another family of close neighbors, was held. In Dolores’ words, “What started out as a “hairy” day ended up being a great neighborhood get together! A time to be remembered!”
Meanwhile, another Mokena educator was also living through the chaotic day. Richard Quinn, a history teacher at Willowcrest, showed the spirit of small-town helpfulness by not only giving rides home to some of his students in his trusty 1959 Studebaker Lark, but also to commuters he encountered. Many were caught unawares when the blast of white hit, and not a few were stranded on country roads in their cars, were some had to spend the night. Quinn remembers that Consola’s restaurant, located north of town on Wolf Road, had thrown open its doors for stuck travelers overnight, as did the Mokena taverns, who housed and fed helpless drivers.
Third Street after the 1967 blizzard. Visible at left is Richard Quinn's 1959 Studebaker Lark, with which he weathered the storm. (Image courtesy Richard Quinn)
Also standing on the pedestal of memory is the great snow of 1979. Striking on January 13th and 14th of that year, by the time all was said and done, a whopping 21 inches of snow had fallen on Mokena, including the 10 inches that had already recently piled up. A bitter cold of 19 degrees below zero chilled residents to the core. In the wake of the snow’s complete whiteout, abandoned cars dotted 191st Street east of Route 45, both of which were simple, rural roads at this time. Empty cars also choked the ramps leading to Interstate 80 at Route 45, which caused them to be closed for days. Local volunteers mounted on their own snowmobiles played a crucial part in rescue efforts. If a stranded motorist lived nearby, the good Samaritans brought them home, braving the deep freeze and gales of snow. If their homes were out of reach, they were brought to town to the village hall. Lifelong village resident and mayor Bob Teske, his wife Lynn, and some Mokena policemen led extrications from there. An avid CB radio enthusiast who communicated under the handle Chief Mo-kee-no, (which was to easier to hear over the airwaves then Chief Mokena) Teske and his crew took to the citizens’ band to communicate with those marooned in their cars. While Mayor Teske had been under doctor’s orders to lay low at home due to a bad case of bronchitis, Lynn Teske said “there was no way to keep him down.” Of those holed up at the village hall, six of them were from points out of state. Two came from Florida, two from far off Canada, and two truckers hailed from California. While guests in our village, they didn’t go hungry; Lynn Teske treated them to breakfast, and later a barbeque and macaroni salad lunch.
Of all the nasty blizzards that Mokena has been through, the storm of January 6th and 7th, 1918 was probably the worst, at least in terms of chaotic effect. In total snow accumulation, it was bested by the other two blizzards, this time a “mere” 15 inches of snow were recorded, but village old timers said it was easily the worst since 1885, but others in town scoffed and said there definitely hadn’t been anything like it since at least the 1860s. It came at a scary time, World War I was in full swing, lots of local boys were in the army and on their way to France where an uncertain fate awaited them.
To only compound the stress of the snowstorm, the village was also undergoing a coal shortage due to the war. Many Mokenians were completely without it at this time, and to heat their homes, were soaking old coal ashes in their stoves with oil and burning it this way. For the first time in living memory, trains on the Rock Island railroad completely stopped running. The last train into town steamed in at 4 o’clock in the morning in the middle of the storm, having left Chicago at 6:10 the night before. J.D. Rosenbaum, our village doctor, wound up being stranded in the city the whole weekend.
Acute cold also caused the town streetlights to malfunction, plunging the village into darkness. Bill Semmler, Mokena’s correspondent to the Joliet Herald-News noted that “several people froze their faces by walking from their homes to the business part of the village.” All church services at the village’s four houses of worship were cancelled, but the public school at the corner of Front Street and today’s Schoolhouse Road stayed open, managing a “fair” attendance.
Just about all roads leading out of town were completed blocked by the snow. What is today Wolf Road, leading south from the Rock Island tracks was totally snowbound for weeks, being covered by a massive snow drift about 600 feet long and six feet deep. It wasn’t cleared until the middle of February, when Mokenian George Marti was hired by the village board to cut through the drift. Not a few of our neighbors in Frankfort who relied on the Rock Island trains in our village came here by foot in this time, trudging over a temporary road which had been blazed across fields and through the woods. Correspondent Semmler noted matter-of-factly that “this new route makes a considerable short cut between the two towns.”
In the meantime, we continue to dig ourselves (and the village) out of the latest icy accumulation, and also enjoy the look of beauty that the fresh snow has brought to our surroundings. When the going gets tough, as it certainly already has this time around, it never hurts to remember the Mokenians who have fought the same winter hardships in years past.
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