Notes for: John Marion Husk

From a newspaper clipping in 1949:
"Weather forecasts for the next two days indicate nothing to compare with the terribly cold weather in Clarksburg and its vicinity of about fifty years ago. Marion Husk, Route 3, is our authority for the fact that on February 10, 1899, the bottom practically dropped out of the thermometer to a gruesome forty-two degrees below zero. 'How is this for winter?' Mr. Husk asks in a letter. 'Just fifty years ago tonight, February 10 1899, a schoolmate of mine passed away. A few minutes before he died, he asked me to select his burial outfit. Granting his wish, I chose to walk nine miles to West Union, starting at 7 o'clock. When I left the house, the thermometer reading was thirty-eight degrees below zero, and when I arrived at West Union about the middle of the night, it was forty-two degrees below zero.' Mr. Husk recalls that on that particular errand, he did not stop to rest! He also says that with the help of a friend, he opened a grave for his schoolmate at the Powell graveyard on Buckeye, the mercury at the time sagging to thirty-eight below zero."