It brought back memories for this farm boy of many hot summer days during which we were grateful for any breeze at all.

Locals love to gripe about the Kansas wind, because it is so strong and so persistent. But that wind makes the dog days of summer bearable for farmers, construction workers, roofers and others who spend extended periods outdoors.

And ask Wichita city officials how grateful they were for a hearty breeze when remarkably still conditions early this spring contributed to the city exceeding EPA limits on ozone levels.

I have a tendency to roll my eyes when I hear sportscasters talking about a “strong” wind affecting a football game or golf tournament – and then say it’s blowing at 10 mph.

In Kansas, that’s merely the wind clearing its throat.

Only .08 of an inch was recorded at the National Weather Service’s official reporting station next to the airport, but nearly an inch was reported three miles southwest of Park City.

Another .67 was reported two miles southwest of Garden Plain and nearly half an inch seven miles northeast of Wichita.

The strongest storm of the day ripped through the Salina area Monday morning. Winds estimated between 80 and 100 miles an hour uprooted trees and snapped power poles in northcentral Kansas, and more than an inch of rain was reported with the storm – including 1.75 inches of rain nearly a mile southwest of Salina, and 1.17 northwest of Smolan.

Nearly an inch fell just east of Lindsborg, and .89 fell nine miles west-southwest of Brookville.

“The hail was screeching along the window,” church secretary Shirley Train said. “At first we thought someone was screaming.”

The wind and the hail was so loud no one heard the steeple snap off and stab the roof like a spear shortly after 10:30 a.m. Monday, Train said. The tip of the steeple pierced the sanctuary, protruding perhaps six feet past the ceiling tiles.

“The custodian was checking the doorways for water seepage,” Train said. “She came in and said, ‘Shirley, I need your help.’”

The damage is blamed on winds unofficially estimated at 100 miles an hour that blew through Salina with a thunderstorm Monday morning.

The National Weather Service’s official data collection site at the airport on the south side of Salina recorded maximum sustained winds of 69 knots, or about 80 miles an hour, said Dick Elder, meteorologist in charge of the Wichita NWS office.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there were winds approaching 100 miles per hour” in that storm, he said.

Perhaps 15 feet of the five-year-old steeple was snapped off, Train said. It is hollow, so it was serving as a large spout funneling water into the sanctuary.

The sound of dripping water drew the custodian to the sanctuary, where she spotted the damage, Train said. The good news is the unlikely spear missed wiring and sprinkler systems, so repairs should be pretty straightforward.

“It came through the structure in just the right way,” Train said. “I think everything will go on as usual…we’ll just carry on.”

That core of the strongest winds stretches from the Reno/Harvey county line southeast through northern Butler County to the Labette/Cherokee county line. Winds of 60 to 70 miles an hour were reported in a broad band around the most intense core.

That outer band includes Wichita and essentially the northeast half of Sedgwick County. But Wichita escaped significant damage from the strong winds, Sedgwick County Emergency Management director Randy Duncan said.

More wintry images can be found at Robin’s Web site, www.robinlorensonphoto.com

“I’m not in a drift,” Miller told his friend, Michael Pearce, who is also the Eagle’s outdoors writer. “I’d say we got at least 2 feet, maybe as much as 30 inches. The good thing is that it didn’t drift. I guess it was too wet and heavy to blow. My word, if this would have drifted like a lot of snows it’d have been a mess.”

“We have cows walking and dragging their bellies in the snow,” he added. “It’s the most snow I’ve ever seen in my lifetime.”

Todd’s father, Bud Miller, is in his 80s and was raised in the same area. He’s seen bigger drifts, “but never this much snow just sitting there flat,” Todd said. “That’s what all of the old farmers are telling me…bigger drifts, but they’ve never seen regular snow this deep.”

Official reports of 28 inches came from places not far from Miller’s ranch, and snowfall of a foot or more was widespread in western and central Kansas.

As of noon on Monday, Miller said about half of the snow had melted. And one more thing: At this time last week Miller was worried because his wheat fields really needed moisture.

That’s no longer a concern.

“Certainly, anyone from Pratt west needs to be extremely vigilant in getting prepared for this storm,” said Mike Smith, chief executive officer of WeatherData Services, a subsidiary of AccuWeather.
“Some areas could easily get a foot and a half, and there might be some spots that get more.”

The National Weather Service has already issued a winter storm watch for much of western Kansas from late Thursday night to late Friday night, with as much as 10 inches of snow expected near the Oklahoma border and gusty winds creating blizzard conditions at times on Friday.

Wichita can also expect snow on Friday into Saturday, forecasters say — and it could be a lot.

“You can’t even rule out a foot” of snow for Wichita, National Weather Service meteorologist Chris Jakub said. “It just depends on the track.”

See Thursday’s Eagle for more on this story.

Steve, my twin, had done a very good job of clearing brush down behind the shed along the creek that meanders through our homestead. I walked to the Sawmill Creek to see how much water was in it following what sounded like a dry winter.

Not only was there no water in the creek, the bed was so dry the dirt was like powder. I crossed to the south bank and began walking along the trees that had grown up along the edge. A biting south wind slapped my face as I walked, sending a shudder down my spine.

I spotted some trails carved into the prairie next to the trees, and out of curiosity I began following one just to see where it would take me. The ruts were deep and vertical, telling me they had been gouged out by hooves — most likely deer, since we no longer have cattle or horses on the place.

The ruts carried me close to the water’s edge – if there had been water in the creek, that is – and also cut the strong south wind to a teasing whisper. Suddenly, the day seemed transformed. Protected from the worst of the wind, the day seemed pleasant: sunny, with just a touch of breeze.

As the path curled up the slope and away from the trees and the creek bed, the forceful wind made its presence known once again. I was reminded of something my oldest sister, Mary, said as we’d braved a harsh east wind the evening before while checking out the west end of the creek and the small bridges spanning it so an irrigation pivot system could cross.

Even as the wind made us quicken our pace and shield our faces (with her granddaughter tucked inside layers of clothing like a kid in a kangaroo’s pouch), she talked about how much she missed the wind when she moved to northwest Missouri. The wind, the prairie, the sky. She talked about how the wind could define a day with its strength, shifting directions, and whimsical whirls. She went on about the subtle beauty of the prairie and how she loved feeling grounded by the soil. And she loved how the undulating prairie gave proper homage to the vastness of the skies, as if it realized what a remarkable stage the heavens could be – whether it’s sunrise or sunset, approaching storms or the grandeur of the stars at night.

For true people of the prairie, trees and mountains feel confining. It’s as if the sky becomes their compass (as it was for centuries of seafarers), and without it they feel adrift.

The deer tracks dipped down to the creek again, and as I followed them the wind spun around to blow again from the east. Down in the trees, following an east-west stretch of the creek, it was as if there was no wind at all.

By the time I emerged again from the woods, the wind was out of the south again. For me, a south wind symbolizes spring and summer in Kansas. It carries the moisture that feeds the spring storms, as well as the dry air that cures the maturing wheat in the nation’s bread basket as summer arrives.

Those characteristics capture the dichotomy that is a Kansas wind. It’s such an integral part of what defines the state, at times giving and at times taking away. Even as I shivered at times on that walk in the woods, I remembered all those simmering summer days on this land when it was the wind that offered blessed relief from the heat.

Why are the winds so strong? They’re rushing to equalize pressure farther north, where a powerful zone of low pressure is drawing a blizzard through the northern Plains. Forecasters say temperatures will plunge 60 degrees in less than 48 hours in Montana, from highs of 40 on Friday to -20 on Sunday.

Yep: -20.

Wichita will also see a dramatic plunge, though not that far. After a high of about 60 today, we’ll be pushing to reach the low 20s on Monday.

Wind chills will drop below zero throughout most of Kansas Sunday night. Those numbers could drop between -10 and -15 in central Kansas.

The cold air and harsh winds will stick around a while, too: Wind chills between 0 and -10 are expected Tuesday night over central and parts of south-central Kansas.

Light snow is expected sporadically during the period as well, though no significant accumulation appears to be likely.

Authorities are telling me that drivers are acting as if the roads are perfectly normal…and that’s creating numerous slide-offs and collisions as they discover too late that they’re wrong.

This happens every winter, unfortunately. Tom Hein, a Kansas Department of Transportation spokesman, even called today a “learning-curve storm,” meaning it’s the wake-up call that winter has arrived.

The National Weather Service is now saying as much as 4 inches of snow could fall in the metro area by the time the fast-moving storm passes into southeastern Kansas.

But keep an eye on forecasts and conditions. That number could easily change.

And slow down out there. Please.