TULARE COUNTY
KERN PEAK
Inyo National Forest
19S-34E-3
19S-34E-3
October 13, 1917: "That a ranger's life is not the life of ease that a great many people picture it to be is indicated by a report of Lester E. Creasey, government lookout at Kern Peak station in which Creasey describes an electrical storm which struck Kern Peak October 1. Nine times Creasey's cabin was struck by lightning, his hair was singed by lightning flames and he was driven out into a blinding snowstorm to find his way down a narrow trail to shelter. Here is a copy of a section of the report:
This season passed about the same as other seasons, but there were more visitors than usual.
The electric storms were about like the ones we usually have on Kern Peak except the last one, which was in a class all by itself, for its peculiar phenomena. It showed all across the north all afternoon in a heavy black bank of storm, as far south as the Siberian Pass.
About 4 p.m. The storm began to move south, then the fireworks began, with increasing violence as they traveled. About 4:30 p.m. Snow commenced to fall at Kern Peak: about this time a bolt of lightning came down the flag pole, emitting a sharp crackling and hissing; this happened five times, giving me quite a jarring sensation, and each time it came with a little more noise than the one before, BANG, it came the sixth time on the flagpole; this sounded like an explosion of a half a ton of powder, and there was a shower of sparks fell down by the windows. I looked out expecting to see the roof or flagpole on fire, but only saw a black spot on the pole near its top, and felt a peculiar something in the air.
I now put on my raincoat and hat, and as I did this a small spark jumped from the wall when I put up my hand to get my hat. Just then another bolt struck both cabin and telephone line, making a sharp crack as it jumped the open switch at the end of the table and burned the ground wire off, outside the cabin.
I didn't dare linger to see what might come next, so down the trail I started; it was now a blinding whirl of snow. I could see about six feet and there was about one and a half inches of snow on the ground.
When I had got about 300 yards from the cabin, I heard a hissing in the north traveling south, and bang! It struck the cabin, but I could not see if it did any damage, as I could not see anything except snow. This bolt was traveling horizontally and passed so close to me that it singed the hair on the back of my neck and felt like something brushed past me.
I proceeded a little farther and another crash louder than all the rest hit the cabin. It sounded as if it must have torn it into splinters, but I couldn't see. This bolt was also traveling horizontal and gave me a slap on top of my hat. I could hear both of these rushing through the air before they struck.
The loud crashes were no thunder, but the heavy arcing when the electricity grounded or struck the cabin; these last flashes made practically no thunder. This was nine times the cabin was struck. The lightning at 5:45 p.m. Was all over, ending with the last crack at me. It rained several hours at the tunnel, where I arrived at 7:15 p.m. This was on October 1, 1917.
Next day I went up to look for fires and see what damage was done, also pack my bed down.
First I saw, the ground and line wires were burned off; next the switch inside the cabin was badly melted; next the telephone itself was only an imitation; it had been completely ruined, except possibly the generator coils.
There were no fires on account of the rain in the night.
The cabin looks as good as ever except the black spots where it was hit; most of these are on the flagpole.
I would recommend that the flagpole be cut off close to the roof, and larger knife switches in connection with lighter fuse be installed. Also a thoroughly efficient lightning rod system, capable of grounding any extreme load that might strike it. LESTER E. CREASEY. , Lone Pine, Cal." (Bakersfield Californian)
This season passed about the same as other seasons, but there were more visitors than usual.
The electric storms were about like the ones we usually have on Kern Peak except the last one, which was in a class all by itself, for its peculiar phenomena. It showed all across the north all afternoon in a heavy black bank of storm, as far south as the Siberian Pass.
About 4 p.m. The storm began to move south, then the fireworks began, with increasing violence as they traveled. About 4:30 p.m. Snow commenced to fall at Kern Peak: about this time a bolt of lightning came down the flag pole, emitting a sharp crackling and hissing; this happened five times, giving me quite a jarring sensation, and each time it came with a little more noise than the one before, BANG, it came the sixth time on the flagpole; this sounded like an explosion of a half a ton of powder, and there was a shower of sparks fell down by the windows. I looked out expecting to see the roof or flagpole on fire, but only saw a black spot on the pole near its top, and felt a peculiar something in the air.
I now put on my raincoat and hat, and as I did this a small spark jumped from the wall when I put up my hand to get my hat. Just then another bolt struck both cabin and telephone line, making a sharp crack as it jumped the open switch at the end of the table and burned the ground wire off, outside the cabin.
I didn't dare linger to see what might come next, so down the trail I started; it was now a blinding whirl of snow. I could see about six feet and there was about one and a half inches of snow on the ground.
When I had got about 300 yards from the cabin, I heard a hissing in the north traveling south, and bang! It struck the cabin, but I could not see if it did any damage, as I could not see anything except snow. This bolt was traveling horizontally and passed so close to me that it singed the hair on the back of my neck and felt like something brushed past me.
I proceeded a little farther and another crash louder than all the rest hit the cabin. It sounded as if it must have torn it into splinters, but I couldn't see. This bolt was also traveling horizontal and gave me a slap on top of my hat. I could hear both of these rushing through the air before they struck.
The loud crashes were no thunder, but the heavy arcing when the electricity grounded or struck the cabin; these last flashes made practically no thunder. This was nine times the cabin was struck. The lightning at 5:45 p.m. Was all over, ending with the last crack at me. It rained several hours at the tunnel, where I arrived at 7:15 p.m. This was on October 1, 1917.
Next day I went up to look for fires and see what damage was done, also pack my bed down.
First I saw, the ground and line wires were burned off; next the switch inside the cabin was badly melted; next the telephone itself was only an imitation; it had been completely ruined, except possibly the generator coils.
There were no fires on account of the rain in the night.
The cabin looks as good as ever except the black spots where it was hit; most of these are on the flagpole.
I would recommend that the flagpole be cut off close to the roof, and larger knife switches in connection with lighter fuse be installed. Also a thoroughly efficient lightning rod system, capable of grounding any extreme load that might strike it. LESTER E. CREASEY. , Lone Pine, Cal." (Bakersfield Californian)