The year…1972.
The state….South Dakota.
The season…the dead of winter.
The weather report…heavy snow, blizzard warnings and subzero temps.
We had just arrived in Sisseton for a day or two to reload stock, etc. Due to the winter weather, my brother-in-law Lowell (we were a part of the Lowell Lundstrom Ministries at that time) had booked an evangelistic rally just a couple hours from our home in Sisseton. Simple enough? It was just down the road "apiece", as they say in Missouri.
The phone rang, and a panicked Lowell announced, "We have to leave now. A huge storm is moving this way, and we have to get ahead of it." Well, if you were born and raised in the Midwest, and you are told a storm is brewing-you prepare. Anyway, we had to leave now. Now in a panic, I exclaimed, "I have to stop at the store and get some food to have on the bus for the children." He answered, "Honey, the rest of the crew is already loaded into the bus, and they are waiting on us. We have to leave NOW!" He assured me, "It's only an hour or so away, and as soon as we get there, I'll get a ride for you to the store to get groceries." I whined but being outnumbered, I quickly grabbed the lowly orange and banana on the kitchen counter along with the last eight ounces of orange juice in a bottle. I bundled up LaDawn, who was about 9 months old, and LaShawn in her snowsuit, who was about 4 years old, grabbed my purse and away we sped off to board the bus.
We were heading down highway 81 toward Watertown, SD and the weather was getting worse by the minute. We crested the hill at Summit, SD, (which is truly a summit), and we were instantly in blinding snow. The wind picked up, and the road disappeared as if it were a white blanket. No lines were visible to follow. The further we drove, the slower we crept and soon we could barely see five feet ahead of us due. About 45 minutes into the drive, we were like a snow plow pushing the snow and ended up stalled on the side of the road.
It was one of those fearful experiences as our huge 40 ft. bus nested in the snow-not knowing where we were. And of course, this is all before cell phones, so there was no communication with the outside world.
There we sat, about 10 or 12 of us in the bus. We had an empty fridge, no groceries, except my "survival" orange and banana, and five rambunctious children. It was now mid afternoon. The first hour was fascinating and exciting for the children, for us adults-it was serious. We could see nothing out of the window - total visibility was zero. Then it started to get dark. Now what? How long would our fuel last? How long would the blizzard last? Night settled in and so did our relentless concern and fear.
Now the children were getting tired and hungry so I invented a game. I took the orange, peeled it, and gave each child a segment and an ounce each of orange juice. Thank God they were tired and fell asleep in their bunks. I thanked God they were exhausted from all the playing and excitement. I remember praying, "God please let them sleep hard and long as I only have one more piece of fruit left and about three ounces of orange juice."
Nevertheless, we adults were hungry, but that was beside the point. We were hoping and praying the blizzard would subside. Unfortunately, the blowing snow and fierce winds only increased. The fuel gauge was going down. We only had hours of fuel left and still no food, then what? Exhausted we decided to sleep for a few hours and hoped we would wake up to the calm after the storm. Although it was a nice thought-that isn't what happened. The whistling and wailing sound of the wind and the blowing snow hitting the bus windows was deafening. Now we knew this was serious and life threatening.
Larry, his brother Lowell and our pianist at the time had the urgency to find out where we were and find help soon.
I'll never forget watching the men bundle up in winter coats, boots and gloves as they inched outside the front bus door. As soon as they stepped into the snow, they literally disappeared. I heard them open the bays of the bus and take microphone cords to tie together. They probably had a couple hundred feet of cord. They tied it to the bus and began to venture out into the unknown. We women were worried that the cords would fall apart and that they would get lost in the blinding snow. I don't recall how long we anxiously waited staring into the whiteout.
Finally, there was a pound on the front door. A bit hesitant as to what it was, we watched the door open, and there were our men. Praise the Lord! They were O.K. They looked like snowmen, all white with snow. Their faces were ruby red, but they were smiling. "Hey, just a couple hundred feet from here is a farm and a farm house. There are people there." The men bid us to get our boots, coats and gloves on because we were going out. We had to trust them that our long "lifeline" of microphone cord would take us back in the right direction. We bundled up, and like geese lined up, we trudged through the deep snow, stumbling all the way to this little farm house. We came to find not only the residents but many stranded travelers from several states were also there.
We stepped into the porch of the farm house and were warmly greeted by Shirley Bachmann. She bid us to come in, graciously took our coats and said, "Now let's get you all warmed up." Our first question was, "Where are we at?!" She told us we were near Summit, SD. We proceeded into the living room, and to our amazement, there were over 20 other stranded people. Can you imagine having 25 or more people barge into your home? Shirley's husband, Thomas, had just come home from Rochester, MN, suffering from heart problems, and he was resting in the upstairs bedroom of the farm house.
She knew that we were hungry and invited us in to eat. How would you prepare for that crew of unexpected guests? I love the way God works and provides. Get this-among those who were stranded in the ditch by the Bachmann farmhouse was a bread truck, milk truck, a truck from Arkansas carrying rice and Thomas and Shirley had just butchered beef a couple weeks earlier. Now isn't that just like the Lord! For the next two days, we set up a schedule, and we women joined in the kitchen to fix delicious breakfasts, dinners and suppers.
All the children thought this was a huge, fun event. They played games and played more games. At night-the living room and small dining room had people laid about with blankets making it like a large package of tootsie rolls. There were people from wall to wall trying to get some sleep. All the children thought this was the next best thing to candy! During this time we bonded with those who were also stranded, shared Christ and prayed together.
On the third morning, the angry winds and blowing snow subsided. All was calm. The sun came out and so did the shovels and tractor to dig everybody out of the ditches. In a few hours and after many emotions, we bid all of our new friends goodbye.
As I've reminisced about this experience through the years, I praise God for His protection over all of us and for the kindness and unselfish love and concern of Thomas and Shirley Bachmann from Summit, SD, for being so kind to all of us who were stranded. They were definitely our angels of mercy.
The artists rendering of the angel protecting little children crossing over a bridge reminds me of our experience and the verse in Matthew 4:6 "He will give His angels charge over you."
After 44 years on the road, having traveled hundreds of thousands of miles, God certainly has commissioned His angels to watch over us.