Page 103 - James Rodger Fleming - Fixing the sky

kansas and nebraska rainmakers

In the 1880s and 1890s, intermittent drought conditions in Kansas and Nebraska,
some regionally severe, combined with economic turmoil and crop failures to
encourage farmers to seek the services of rainmakers. According to climatological
records, the Midwest received nearly normal rainfall in 1891. Kansas and nearby
states, however, experienced a summer dry spell (but not a full-blown drought)
that was threatening to stunt the crops. The farmers, seeking to be proactive, con-
tacted rainmaker Frank Melbourne—known variously as “the Australian,” “the
Irish Rainmaker,” or “the ohio Rain Wizard”—who promised a soaking areal
rain for $500. “Let every farmer who is able act promptly and contribute to this
fund,” advised the Goodland News, “and we will give to Goodland and Sherman
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county a valid boom such as they have never enjoyed before.” Plans were made
for the rainmaker to be the star attraction of the county fair, along with horse
racing, public speeches, and a grand evening ball. The governor and members of
the State Board of Agriculture were invited as special guests, and the Rock Island
Railroad announced reduced fares for all. Those opposed to the effort cited the
hubris of meddling in the “Lord’s business” and the dangers of unintended con-
sequences such as setting off a tornado “that would blow the town from the face
of the earth” (310).
The rainmaker arrived amid great fanfare, with his proprietary chemicals and
rain machine. But he arrived slightly damp, since a period of unsettled weather
had just begun and a light rain was already falling. Determined to collect his fee
by wringing even more moisture out of the clouds, Melbourne (perhaps a model
for Jeremy the “rain bat”) proceeded to the fairgrounds, where he mixed his
chemicals in solitude on the second floor of a mysterious shed, especially erected
to his specifications. The shed was cordoned off by a 20-foot rope perimeter
patrolled by Melbourne’s brother, who remained on the ground floor as a sort
of bodyguard and bouncer. The general public could do little more than gaze at
the shed, hoping to catch a glimpse of the “cloud making substances” escaping
through a hole in the roof. Melbourne built up anticipation by releasing reports
from neighboring towns announcing major rainfalls downwind, for which he
took full credit. Ultimately, however, he failed to deliver on his contract. His
excuse, which many accepted, was that conditions were not right for rainmak-
ing; the relatively cool nights and strong winds had rendered his chemicals and
rain machine ineffective. Before leaving town for far-off engagements, never to
return, Melbourne lined his pockets by selling his secret formula and copies of
his rainmaking machines to local entrepreneurs. Soon three new enterprises—
the Inter-State Artificial Rain Company, the Swisher Rain Company, and

86 | rain fakerS