It sure has gotten bitter cold. It doesn't look like January without any snow on the ground. Everything is so drab, brown and frozen. My dad hated winter. He worked outside all his life, and he complained about winter every year. I have written how dad was not mechanically minded, but he was strong and relied on his brute strength to accomplish many tasks.

Dad dug graves after he retired from the Freeborn County Highway Department.

He started out mowing the family cemetery at Newry and from this task he started to dig graves. Dad liked digging graves and being around the

final resting grounds of his ancestors. He liked the fact he could make money with simple tools like shovels, rakes, and pick axes. He didn't usually dig graves in the winter, as back then the deceased were often kept in storage until the spring thaw. Dad made an exception to do a winter

burial one January as a baby had died after it was born. He had never dug a grave in the winter, but the hole wouldn't have to be too big and he thought he could easily chop through the frozen ground with a pickaxe. The day he dug the grave it was 20 below zero and he was out in the open with a northwest wind coming at him full force. He worked for three hours chopping through the frozen tundra. His left hand went numb and he had no feeling in it. He rubbed snow on his fingertips, as he thought this was the right thing to do. His lymphnoids had been removed from his left side several years

before because he had breast cancer, so he had lost some of the feeling on this side already. He was in great pain when the family came out to bury their baby and an uncle of the baby stayed behind to help dad fill in the grave.

When dad came home that night, he didn't want anyone to know he was in pain so he slept with his left hand tucked under his right armpit. He was in pain for three days and my mother begged him to go to the doctor. He wouldn't let her see his fingers and when he finally did let her see them, the middle finger and ring finger were black and a red streak was going up his arm.

She got him to go to the doctor when he saw the horror in her eyes. Dad had to have the tips of his these two fingers removed. Because he was stubborn and macho, this cost him his fingertips. Dad's hand never really healed properly and his arm swelled up in later years. He hated winter even more after he froze his fingertips. He never dug a winter grave again.

My husband, Tom, took over the gravedigging business from dad and Tom digs graves all winter. He uses a propane heater to thaw the ground out. Tom doesn't like winter either, but he makes the work easier for himself than dad did. Tom paces himself and knows how to protect himself when the northwest wind is blowing hard and can freeze skin quickly. He uses plywood and tarps to protect him from the harsh winds. Dad would have liked this open, snowless winter we are having. I have great respect for all the laborers who work outside during the winter. Not many people like doing this type of work, but it is necessary to do and these people are a hearty bunch. One good thing is that January is half over with. For now we just have to keep bundled up.

Sheila Donnelly can be reached at 434-2233 or by e-mail at :mailto:newsroom@austindailyherald.com