The the Armistice Day Storm took place in the Midwest region of the United States on 11 November (Armistice Day) and 12 November 1940. The intense early-season "Panhandle hook" winter storm cut a 1,000-mile-wide path through the middle of the country from Kansas to Michigan.

The morning of 11 November 1940 brought with it unseasonably high temperatures. By early afternoon temperatures had warmed in lower to middle 60s over most of the affected region. However, as the day wore on conditions quickly deteriorated. Temperatures dropped sharply, winds picked up, and rain, followed by sleet, and then snow began to fall. An intense low pressure system had tracked from the southern plains northeastward into western Wisconsin, pulling Gulf of Mexico moisture up from the south and pulling down a cold arctic air mass from the north.

The result was a raging blizzard that would last into the next day. Snowfalls of up to 27 inches, winds of 50 to 80 mph, 20-foot snow drifts, and 50-degree Fahrenheit temperature drops were common over parts of the states of Nebraska, South Dakota, Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan.

In Minnesota, 27 inches of snow fell at Collegeville, and the Twin Cities recorded 16 inches. Record low pressures were recorded in La Crosse, Wisconsin and Duluth, Minnesota.

Transportation and communications were crippled, which exacerbated finding the dead and injured.

The Armistice Day Blizzard ranks #2 in Minnesota's list of top-5 weather events of the 20th century.

A total of 154 deaths were blamed on the storm.

Along the Mississippi River several hundred duck hunters had taken time off from work and school to take advantage of the ideal hunting conditions.

Weather forecasters had not predicted the severity of the oncoming storm, and as a result many of the hunters were not dressed for cold weather. When the storm began many hunters took shelter on small islands in the Mississippi River, and the 50 mph winds and 5-foot waves overcame their encampments. Some became stranded on the islands and then froze to death in the single-digit temperatures that moved in over night. Others tried to make it to shore and drowned.

Duck hunters constituted about half of the 49 deaths in Minnesota. In Watkins, In Lake Michigan, 66 sailors died on three freighters, the SS Anna C. Minch, the SS Novadoc, and the SS William B. Davock, as well as two smaller boats that sank. 13 people died in Illinois, 13 in Wisconsin, and 4 in Michigan.

Prior to this event, all of the weather forecasts for the region originated in Chicago. After the failure to provide an accurate forecast for this blizzard, forecasting responsibilities were expanded to include 24-hour coverage and more forecasting offices were created, yielding more accurate local forecasts.

Wow! Crazy storm!

x2 Just crazy

The following is an excerpt about the storm from Gordon MacQuarrie: The Story of an Old Duck Hunter:

On November 11, 1940, MacQuarrie was sent to cover a story straddling
the line between straight news and the outdoor page. It became
one of his most famous works as a hardcore newsman, and it is still
occasionally reprinted on the anniversary of the event. That day a storm
swept through the Upper Midwest the likes of which hadn’t been seen
since 1919.

People who were there for the great Armistice Day Storm
still talk about it and remember it as though it had happened yesterday.
What made the story worthy of MacQuarrie’s attention? More than
thirty duck hunters died that day on the Mississippi River bottoms be-
tween Red Wing, Minnesota, and La Crosse, Wisconsin. The exact death
toll may never be known, because some of the bodies of the presumed
dead were never recovered. Empty duck skiffs and orphaned hunting
dogs were the only witnesses to their owners’ fate.

Winona, Minnesota, was ground zero for the story, and MacQuarrie
was there before the fury had subsided. Together with Gordon Closway
of the Winona Republican-Herald, he stayed up through the night writing
the story, which continued to unfold as the night wore on. What began
as just another unseasonably mild fall day quickly disintegrated into a
mad, mortal dash for the hundreds of hunters hidden in the river bottoms
awaiting the Grand Passage of birds from the north.

In Winona, that Monday, November 11, started out slightly overcast,
with a few sprinkles and temperatures in the mid-30s. Many duck
hunters took advantage of the mild weather and the holiday, heading out
into the backwater sloughs of the mighty Mississippi for one more crack
at the ducks—ducks, by the way, which had been nearly absent earlier
in the season. But by 10:00 A.M. the weather turned. It started with an
almost unnoticeable westward shift in the wind. An hour later the gusty
wind had turned ferocious, and the temperature plummeted.

The ducks did come on the leading edge of the front, but the hunters
soon lost interest in the waves of mallards, bluebills, and canvasbacks.
By noon the wind was approaching forty miles per hour and still rising.
The hunters began a wild exodus toward safety, but many small boats
swamped or capsized in the unrelenting face of the wind and ice. Many
motors would not turn, and hunters were left stranded on marshy islands
in the river. The wind peaked at sixty miles per hour as the temperature
continued to spiral downward. Before daylight the next morning it was
six below zero, and rescuers had already begun the grisly task of
retrieving the dead and dying.

The report from MacQuarrie and Closway was grim and graphic:
“The ducks came and men died. They died underneath upturned skiffs
as the blast sought them out on boggy, unprotected islands. They died
trying to light fires and jumping and sparring to keep warm. They died
sitting in skiffs. They died standing in river water to their hips, awaiting help."
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I read a story on this about ten years ago, it was in Outdoor Life or perhaps -Sports Afield.

Having lived hunted geese along the Great Lakes I certainly learned quickly that big Northern cold weather fronts can push down rather quickly.

Waterfowlers out on rivers and lakes that day got caught out in a mighty serious Northerner sweeping down Ol' Miss.

I remember my papa telling me about that 1940 storm.

We got to learn from history, and always be prepared...just in case. One never does knows if that ol' man winter is going to sweep down from de' north this November.

I have a 4' x 6' canvas of the above pic in my living room. Love it! What a crazy event! Before my grandpa passed he had 100 stories from that day. He was an avid hunter and ran a mail route in SW Wisconsin, so he got a different story from every farm on his route! I sure wish I would have jotted them all down. Today I can only remember a few! What a waste!