Words are hard to find...here is a copy of a poem about a storm that happened a long time ago, in 1903...storms are destructive...and time cannot change that.
Heppner's Sorrow By C. Franklin Sutton
Death, in madly tearing torrents
Rushed upon a peaceful town,
Sweeping everything before it,
Rooting up and tearing down.
Not a word of warning heard,
Till death held in close embrace
Terror stamped upon each face
Onward rushing maddened waters,
Can no force thy power stay…
Must grim death and desolation
Mar this peaceful Sabbath day?
Too Late! Tis done,
The setting sun hides his face in a rain of tears,
Hearts we cherished now have perished
Lost to us, through coming years.
Hearts must bleed and fingers tremble,
As we raise a lifeless form
From a grave the deluge gave
Each victim of that dreadful storm
A happy home becomes a tomb,
A dress for church becomes a shroud,
A couch of cheer becomes a blur,
And peaceful songs are wailings loud.
Heppner, peaceful mountain village,
We deplore thy awful scourge,
While the music of thy valleys
Echoes back the solemn dirge.
Love is mourning,
Crowns eternal for love's sake;
Till love meets them
And love greets them
On that strand where souls awake.