Winter of 1916 came with an extra strong breath, belching ice and snow. Granny, my faithful burro, spent most of the winter pulling me on my sled. One day she pulled me and my two brothers seven miles to the Parker ranch.
Finally spring seemed to have come to stay. Father had I the goats relieved of their winter coats and sent them to summer camp in the mountains. April 6, 1916, which was Easter Sunday, brought one of the worst snow storms of the season. Father saw it coming and rushed to the mountains to help the herders with the goats. They tried to get them back to winter quarters before the storm got in full swing but were unsuccessful. Then they tried to build fires to save the goats but to no avail. After the storm was over, eight hundred out of twelve hundred goats were dead. Many of the goats that lived through the blizzard were Mexican goats which have short hair the year around. They are kept in the flock for meat purposes. Father said that the Mexican goats really seemed to enjoy digging around in the snow.