August “Gus” Neubauer was just shy of 25 years of age and had just begun a new job as a mechanic for the Motor Inn in Austin, when the heavens fell in.

The young man from Cresco, Iowa, the father of a 3-year-old son, had just begun his duties the week before. He died when the brick building in which the auto shop was located — at the corner of Fourth Avenue Northeast  and First Street Northeast — tumbled down on him during one of the most devastating storms ever to hit Mower County. Five others in the shop managed to escape serious injury.

Neubauer was one of six to die before the storm blew its last breath. Even today, some 90 years gone, the 1928 tornado that scrambled over a 65-mile stretch between Winnebago County, in North Iowa and Austin can still elicit knowing nods when its terrible history is mentioned.

And, questions remain about how the storm rolled in. While most accounts only speak of its first touchdown in Winnebago County, just over the border near Emmons, Minnesota, some reports speak of two tornadoes merging  near Glenville, Minnesota,  before it  headed toward Austin. While dramatic, most weather experts agree that tornadoes do not merge. However, there were multiple reports of a second tornado, although how long it might have lasted isn’t known.

The tornado that hit on that hot afternoon had an intensity calculated at F4 — classed as “devastating” on the Fujita scale. At that speed, winds blow between 207-260 mph and its power can reduce homes to rubble — and did.

By its end, “when the terrible storm had passed and the sun came out through the clouds of the west, a beautiful double rainbow was thrown across the dark clouds that were piled on the eastern sky, clouds that had ridden with the monster that man knows as the tornado,” the Herald reported.

It happened on Aug. 20, 1928, on a day that dawned like a summer detective, revealing clues about the power that would come later.

There were signs. According to the Austin Daily Herald, “the day came… with its intense sultriness, frequent sharp and brilliant electrical storms following each other from southwest to northeast all day, for 24 hours before the destructive storm dropped its gyrating horror upon the city and in five minutes left a track of death and destruction.”

Its ability to kill preceded its arrival in Austin. In Twin Lakes, Minnesota, sisters Stella Powell, 51, of Traer, Iowa, and Emma Speer, 57, of Havelock, Iowa, died when the tornado hit a cabin in which they were vacationing. At Glenville, Mrs. Chris O. Hagen died after she was carried a half a mile and dropped into a slough.

Another odd event preceded the storm: Sue Doocy, research archivist of the Mower County Historical Society, reported in her account of the storm in the society newsletter that “Postmaster George Anderson noticed something strange outside his office window, and called the Austin Daily Herald to report that it was raining grass and weeds, Doocy wrote.

“Herald reporters looked out just as debris fell from the sky landing on Lansing Avenue and cars. It would later be called ‘the harvest of the storm’ with hay, grass, weeds and alfalfa stems. Little did the citizens of Austin know that a ‘wind killer-maniac of Nature,’ was tearing a path towards Austin, destroying everything in its gyrating path.”

It began just after 4 p.m., in Winnebago County and took up its death march to the north and east, before finding its way across Freeborn County and into Austin at 4:45 p.m.

The tempest wrought “destruction among the wooden buildings, lifted for a moment and then struck around the vicinity of the old Normal school buildings. It passed on to the Franklin school (next to Austin High School) where it tore out all of the windows. Then it hit the Public Library and St. Olaf Lutheran Church, tearing its beautiful cathedral glass to little pieces, stripping the roof of almost every shingle and wrecking the tall steeple so that the place was barricaded for fear the steeple would fall.

“Then through the business section it tore its way, crashing plate glass, tearing roofs from buildings, throwing down brick walls, tearing the trees of the courthouse grounds with a ruthless hand. Hundreds of autos standing in the street were wrecked by the driven debris of buildings ruined in the path of the storm.”

Doocy reported in her recap that “Patrolman Locher and his coupe were slammed against  the new Austin Café wall. Locher escaped injury, but the car was totaled. Patrolman Vogel and his 6 year-old son who sat in their 6-cylinder touring car, were picked up and set down in the middle of the street as the roof was ripped off and flying glass cut the boy’s head.”

“Death rode the storm as it came into the fourth ward at the north end,” the Herald reported, where Marvin Bumgarner, 39, and his son, Raymond, 9, were killed, as was Mrs. Harry Johnson, no age given, and Laverne Roberts, 19.

Mrs. Johnson, one report said, was holding babies in both arms when a beam in the home fell on her. The babies, miraculously, were not injured.

Marvin Bumgarner died in the hospital following the storm, bringing the death toll, with Neubauer — whose age was reported as 40, but was actually 25  — to five in Austin. The entire death count which included the Iowa storms, was eight.

Across from the Motor Inn, “the manager was just leaving the Park Theatre when the tornado hit, tearing the roof off the front of the building, scattering bricks, leaving the stage and pipe organ a wreck. The tornado seemed to turn east at the Cedar River, saving the Hormel Plant from damages, as it smashed homes, uprooted trees and swept 15 Milwaukee refrigerator cars off the track like toys.”

An Associated Press report said in less than eight minutes, the storm had trashed a two-mile path down Main Street, causing damage estimated in Austin at over $650,000 — some $7 million in today’s dollars. The entire journey would elicit an estimate of over $2 million, according to other newspapers.

“Among those who witnessed the storm, was Harold Hartson, 17, of Brownsdale, Minn., who had gone to Austin to register for his high school term.

He and 15 other youths sought safety in the basement of the high school. Hartson said the funnel-shaped cloud descended at the Mower County Fairgrounds and came into the city.

All the buildings at the fair, which was to have opened today were wrecked,” another account reported.

Doocy cited one account that said, “after the storm, twin rainbows arched across the dark sky, reminding those left behind, ‘The Creator brings the wind’s wild destruction or the rainbow’s beauty, man’s desire to the contrary.”

Yet another account — a bit hard to believe — said that a hill of 50 autos had been created when the winds jumbled together the vehicles, and twisted them around each other on one corner of downtown Austin.

Its toll was immediately felt. Doctors at the hospital, the AP said, “worked under severe handicaps because of lack of lights and electric power.”

“Efforts were made to hook up the city power lines with the Hormel Packing Company, power plant. Jay Hormel, head of the packing concern personally directed the work of his power crew.”

“Wherever there was rumor of humans being buried under wreckage men worked cutting their way through timbers, iron, brick and stone,” the Herald said. “Men worked with rapidity and in earnestness that has never been equaled here.

“From workshop and home, from business and professional office came men to lend their aid in the work of rescue. The city ambulance and many autos were soon making trips to and from St. Olaf Hospital where all the doctors of the city were kept busy for hours caring for the injured.”

As soon as dusk came martial law was proclaimed. Company H was ordered out and put on patrol duty throughout the ruined portions of the city, assisting the city police force which was augmented by 20 extra officers, the Herald said.

“The men of the American Legion to the number of lOS volunteered their duty, giving the city perfect police protection. The Ladies Auxiliary of the Legion at once established a free canteen where they served coffee and sandwiches to the hungry and to those whose work required their constant attendance on duty during the night.”

There were — literally — bright spots.

Austin Utilities manager Mark Nibaur, in a 2011 newsletter reported, “the tornado left the city without power as it hit the power plant including a brick smoke stack which once stood more than 100 feet tall. The loss of power for a few days nearly led to the purchase of power from an out-of-town contractor. At an evening meeting in the municipal plant, the contract was under consideration.

But then, the Austin know-how came through.

“ … several utilities employees and Superintendent William Todd, refurbished a discarded dynamo,” Nibaur said, “and the lights came on during the meeting.”

March can bring tornadoes

Although the vast majority of Minnesota tornadoes occur in June — since 1950, June has had 605 tornadoes; the second most blustery month is July, with 415 — but tornadoes can come as early as March.

In fact, a tornado that struck St. Peter in 1998 came on March 29.  The deadliest tornado in Minnesota history — that struck at St. Cloud and killed 72 — came early as well, on April 14, 1886. Eleven members of a wedding party, including the groom, were killed.

For more than 20 years, the state of Minnesota has conducted a Severe Weather Awareness Week (April 9-13) in partnership with the National Weather Service and local governments. A statewide tornado drill is part of that event.

Most local and statewide radio, TV and cable stations will be participating in the drill. Television viewers and radio station listeners and TV viewers should hear or see a simulated tornado warning message at 1:45 p.m. This tornado drill warning should last about one minute. When the test is completed, stations should return to normal programming.

In addition, alerts for both the simulated tornado watches and warnings will be issued over the NOAA Weather Radios in the area which will activate the radio alerts. The afternoon drill will also occur at the same time in Wisconsin and is expected to be broadcast on most radio and TV stations.