Years of drought in the Midwest, combined with unsustainable farming practices, brought on the Dust Bowl in the 1930s. Did you think Idaho was spared? Not entirely.
The drought in the 30s spread into Idaho, but since most farms in the arid southern part of the state were gravity irrigated, the impact was not as severe. There were exceptions, though, particularly in Oneida and Cassia counties west of Malad, where hardscrabble farmers were trying to eke out a living from dryland agriculture.
Land that naturally grew grass and sagebrush could not sustain crops when rainfall was scarce. In Idaho, the 1930s witnessed the most severe drought periods on record, with extreme drought conditions occurring in 7 out of 12 years from 1929-1940. Some Idaho farmers found themselves surrounded by drifting sand instead of healthy row crops.
President Franklin D. Roosevelt created the Resettlement Administration as part of his New Deal program to help citizens get back on their feet. In Idaho, that meant buying out about 100 failing farms in Oneida and Cassia counties and assisting the families with relocation, mainly in Oregon’s Willamette Valley and in Northern Idaho. The government provided low-interest loans and grants to get the farmers producing again.
Most struggling farm families had quit paying taxes, so county and school coffers were empty. More than 100 submarginal farms had already been abandoned and were owned by the counties when the federal government stepped in.
Relocating or tearing down farm buildings and removing fencing put about 100 men to work. They removed 187 miles of old fence and made 10,000 juniper posts to build 1,000 miles of new fence to protect the grassland.
The Forest Service became the new land manager of what is now about 47,000 acres of public and formerly private land, turning it back to cover that would be sustainable. That area is now known as the Curlew National Grasslands.
The administration took pains to point out that no one was forced off their land. Relocation and buyouts were voluntary.
Today, if you drive between Holbrook and Malad City on the nearly deserted road between them—as I often have—you’ll see little sign that the land there was once dotted with the farms of people whose hopes withered in the summer sun.
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