Thankful in the trenches: Heifers for South Dakota provide Hope with Hide On

Two messages shared more than 10 years apart with South Dakota State University (SDSU) Extension Beef Specialist Ken Olson ran the gamut from utter despair to thanksgiving and hope for the future. The first was a text Olson received Sunday, October 6, 2013, after an early season blizzard spent itself, and ranchers were finally able to survey the storm’s aftermath.

Dubbed Atlas, the intense storm rolled out of the Rockies and assaulted the Northern Plains. It pummeled the Dakotas, Montana, Wyoming, and Nebraska—hitting western South Dakota the hardest. Starting out as heavy rain, it changed over to record-setting snow—more than 50″ being recorded in places. Unseasonably cold air and strong winds—gusts up to 71 mph—intensified the effects, delivering a lethal punch.

Blocking interstates, state highways, city streets, and county roads, it overwhelmed domesticated livestock and wildlife that hadn’t yet grown protective winter hair coats. Some animals died from hypothermia and not enough oxygen in their systems. Others were pushed through fences and drifted into creeks and reservoirs where they drowned.

Weathering the storm in Rapid City, S.D., since Thursday when the storm began, Olson knew ranchers were doing what they could to protect their herds. “I knew producers were out caring for their animals, risking their own lives in the process,” Olson said.

A Montana native, Olson had experienced two calf-killing spring storms in his life. The first was when he was in high school, living on his family’s ranch near Scobey. The family lost a third of their calf crop. The second occurred when he was at the research station at Kansas State University. Hit with back-to-back storms in mid-March, they lost 60 percent of the calves born to the research herd.

“I knew there would be losses, but the sheer number never crossed my mind,” Olson recalled. “We weren’t dealing with a spring storm with newborns. The calves were older; nearly ready to be weaned.” His first inkling of the staggering losses was a text: “We’re done in the cattle business. They’re all dead in the creek.”

An article by SDSU Extension Bison Specialist Jeff M. Martin, “Facing into the Blizzard: Resiliency and Mortality of Native and Domestic North American Ungulates to Extreme Weather Events,” illustrates the confounding severity of Atlas. Released in December 2022, the article lists the average annual expected background mortality rates—established by USDA—at 1.5% for cattle, 4.4% for sheep, 1.4% for horses, and 2.3% for bison. Estimated expected one-week total death losses for the 16-county study area were 161 cattle, 102 sheep, 9 horses, and 6 bison.

Instead, Martin writes, “The observed death loss of cattle was 223 times above expected background death loss, sheep were 63 times above expected, horses were 44 times above expected, and bison were 6.7 times above expected.” Those percentages equate to observed death losses for cattle of (35,682 ± 189), sheep (6428 ± 80), horses (400 ± 20), and bison (40 ± 6); with the event total death loss amounting to 42,550 ± 206. 

Top-end losses ranged from 70 percent of an entire cow-calf operation to 90 percent of the mature cows in another herd. One rancher reported a total loss of 189 head; two others counted their losses at 400 head each. Animals of all ages perished in the storm. Unlike typical spring storms, calf losses were minimal as compared to mature cow deaths.

Mud Butte rancher Larry Stomprud reported they lost just two 500-pound calves, however a third of their mature cow herd perished. The Stompruds’ cows were divided into two herds grazing in different pastures. They brought the young herd closer to home, leaving the older cows in the second-best pasture assuming they’d be okay there.

Larry’s son, Jay Stomprud, explained, “Our best cows were the ones that succumbed in the storm. It wasn’t long before sale day. The calves were doing well.”

Seven years into building his cattle herd when Atlas struck, Jay was overwhelmed by the sight of carcasses stacked up along a fence line stretching out for three-eighths of a mile. “I felt like we let them down,” he said. “It was hard dealing with what they went through. That sticks with me today. It was at least five years before I could talk about it.”

The senior Stomprud echoed the heartache associated with the cleanup. To satisfy the state-mandated carcass burial, the Stompruds hired a track hoe from the North Dakota oil field. It was late in the day when the operator arrived. “I’m glad it was after dark when we buried them,” Larry said. “It hurt a little less than if it had been daylight.”

Aside from the physical and emotional toll of dealing with the aftermath, there were monetary losses. 2013 saw record high calf and feeder prices. Calves and yearlings that were lost meant revenue lost as they traditionally would have been marketed within the next few months. Cows and bred heifers that died were pregnant with next year’s calves that would have been sold in the fall of 2014. Replacing those females would be costly. Bred heifers were selling between $1,500-$2,000 at the time.

News of the natural disaster quickly spread among the ag community—a pain felt across county and state lines by fellow stockmen and women. In time, accounts of the devastation spread around the world.

Heather Hamilton-Maude, a young rancher and freelance writer impacted by the storm, had the dubious distinction of being the first in-the-trenches voice to raise awareness of the storm on a national scale. Married three months to the day when Atlas struck, she used a generator to provide electricity for her computer as powerlines had toppled in the storm. It was 10 days before power was restored to their home near Caputa, S.D.

Hamilton-Maude proclaimed the beauty, bounty, trials, and powerlessness of stewarding livestock on the Plains, accepting them as part and parcel of “this lifestyle that we love even when it breaks us.” She recounted how she, husband Charles, and sister-in-law Elizabeth dug out the heads of heifers buried in icy, blue snowdrifts in a creek. They cut out ear tags from the deceased to determine ownership and further identify individual animals, all the while trying to keep their composure.

“Travel was impossible,” Heather said. “It dumped two inches of rain before the blizzard; there was mud under feet of snow.” It took days before the Maudes located their animals, which had drifted with the storm. In their places they found neighbors’ animals that blindly fled the storm, trekking more than 20 miles before arriving in their pastures. One group of their animals fortuitously drifted into a neighbor’s hay corral, the gate having been left open. Those animals survived.

Approximately 180 miles as the crow flies from the storm’s epicenter, the news reached Ty Linger. A fourth-generation Montana rancher and horseman living east of Miles City, he and his wife, Rosalie, were in the second year of taking over his parents’ cow-calf operation. The young couple felt called to help.

The federal government was shut down when Atlas hit, furloughing among others, agency employees who served livestock producers. “We talked about it, prayed about it,” Ty said. “I thought let’s go back to what we know—neighbors helping neighbors.” He and Rosalie pledged one of their top bred heifers to help replenish someone’s herd, challenging others to do the same. Before affected ranchers could complete the grim cleanup, Heifers for South Dakota was established.

“I hoped we could get a trailer load,” Ty said of his initial vision. “I wanted to help young producers without the equity in their operations—or the experience of making it through poor breed ups or lightning kills that more established ranchers have—to move forward. One trailer turned into two, then I thought maybe we could get 500 head. That seemed astronomical,” Ty recalled. “My goal was to give hope with hide on.”

With no prior social media experience, Ty set up a Facebook page with help from Rosalie. His first post went out on October 8, 2013. In part it read: “The devastation wrought within a few hours of my home is sickening to look at. For those who have been hit by this storm I pledge one of my best bred heifers to be delivered this fall.”

Ten days later, 350 head had been pledged and over $2,500 donated. As the movement gained traction, the Lingers received assistance with the logistics: setting up a non-profit; building a website; facilitating monetary contributions; establishing collection points for pledged cattle; trucking; getting the cattle into the hands of those who suffered losses. There were no fewer than 31 different organizers handling collections and shipments.

Gary Cammack of Cammack Ranch Supply of Union Center, S.D., contacted Ty asking how he could help. Cammack was tasked with determining who had sustained losses; asking if they would accept a draft of donated animals. His phone inquiries were often met with “We’ll be okay, but our neighbors sure could use help.” Ty credits Shane and Amanda Labrier for assuming a daily presence in South Dakota while he and Rosalie spearheaded the program from Montana.

Newlyweds Charles and Heather Hamilton-Maude received one such phone call. Part of their cattle were in central South Dakota at the time, thus spared from the storm. But they lost 20 percent of their herd on the home ranch. At first blush, they resisted the offer. Ultimately, they accepted five bred heifers sent from Virginia, as well as two other females donated directly to them privately.

“It was humbling to be offered bred heifers,” Heather said. “They were an incredible gift. But others had losses greater than ours. To this day we are thankful to those who donated, and not just the cattle—the Thanksgiving and Christmas food baskets, those who fed and bred yearling heifers. We experienced the Lord’s love poured out from so many.”

Explaining that the Virginia heifers calved a little later than their own, Heather described the day the first Atlas heifer calved. “Seeing that, it felt like we had turned the corner,” she said. Heather sent a letter of thanks to the donor. In the summer of 2024, they received a call from the individual checking in to see how things were going.

Owing to the lifespan of cattle, none of the Atlas females remain on the Maude operation today. But six of them made it to 10 years of age, producing 60 calves. Their daughters and granddaughters remain within the herd.

“They were good cows, and they made a significant difference for us when we were starting our life together,” Heather said. “We’re better off now than before Atlas, and I don’t just mean financially. We’re better human beings. It was a taste of having your earthly possessions taken away and witnessing others giving selflessly.” 

The Jay Stomprud family also received five replacement females, three of which they designated for their children. Like the Maudes, they can point to females in their herd and say they came from Atlas stock. They were able to personally thank one of their donors when they met at a bull sale.

“It was a lesson in humility to accept that type of kindness from strangers,” Jay said. “Atlas was rough, but it wasn’t near the financial crisis for us as it was for some. And we were spiritually equipped, spiritually healthy. We didn’t know that we would need it, but the Lord had our backs.”

Jay counts Ty and Rosalie among the blessings that helped get them back on track, noting the Lingers had to put their own lives on hold while they worked on the giving end. Hamilton-Maude echoed Jay’s sentiment, saying it was inspiring to watch the Lingers fulfill their mission, that she grew in her own faith through the process.

“October and the early part of November were pretty much taken up with Heifers for South Dakota,” Ty said. “We moved 600 head. There was a break between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then we made more deliveries at the end of January. I was doing interviews, taking phone calls, returning messages. It was wonderful work, the kind I’m passionate about—meat and potatoes.”

The last distributions were in June 2014, when producers picked up heifers from a feedlot where they had been wintered and artificially bred with donated semen by volunteer AI technicians. Mark Hofer, South Dakota National Rural Electric Cooperative Association board member, went before a national NRECA meeting in Arlington, Va, and asked for money to cover feed costs at the feedlot, estimated at $35,000. The request was approved.

Ty’s goal exceeded his early aspirations. By the time Heifers for South Dakota rehomed the last animals, volunteers had facilitated the transfer of 1150 head of replacement females valued between $2.5-$3 million. A portion of the $265,000 in monetary donations received was used to purchase cattle beyond those that were donated. Ninety families benefited from animals given by 420 donors. Those with the largest percentage of herd losses received up to 20 head.

Linger’s vision for the heifer distribution program mirrored Olson’s. Olson, who retired from SDSU this year, said, “My focus from 2010 on has been on developing the next generation of cattle producers. They need to be adaptive, to make wise decisions.” To that end, Olson has offered an on-going Extension program for beginning beef producers, some of whom built back after Atlas.

Introduced by a mutual friend shortly after the tenth anniversary of Atlas, Olson and the Lingers met for the first time in November 2023. Ty delighted in hearing how producers were getting along, knowing that the animals made a difference. “Heifers for South Dakota was a large part of our lives,” Ty said. “It was God at work. We were blessed to be part of the endeavor. It wasn’t done for politics, promotion, or praise. I’m just happy to have someone shake my hand and say thank you over a cup of coffee.”  

Olson said it felt good to close the loop about the good outcomes, to bring Ty and Rosalie up to date on their efforts. “Neighbors helping neighbors is a worldwide phenomenon,” Olson said. “You find that you have neighbors in another state or on the other side of the country, strangers who stopped for that moment and joined in the effort.”

From his perspective near Mud Butte, Larry Stomprud said the heifers were a good deal but noted that Ty’s efforts went beyond replacing lost animals. “That young man brought optimism to the whole country. He restored faith in humanity.”