The former town of Thurman, probably has one of the saddest stories of any ghost town ever. Situated on the High Plains of East Central Colorado, Thurman was a growing city. During the early 1900’s, the population was approaching 600 people, There were banks, stores, shops, blacksmiths, small factory, movie house and all the conveniences of a thriving settlers prairie town. Thurman was surrounded by great farmland and the homesteaders had staked out their future.
Spring had brought high hopes, the rain was plentiful and crops were in the ground and growing. That afternoon, the thunderheads boiled up and with it came the funnels. A tornado ripped across the land, in its patch was a farmhouse that would soon be scraps of wood and piles of rubble. Seeing the damage, neighbors gathered up their families and took their wives and children to another neighbor’s house. The men struck out to help the neighbor that had been hit by the funnel. Hustling across the prairie to the tornado damage, the men paused, a loud roar was behind them. Looking back over their shoulder, they saw a huge funnel dropping out of the clouds. Right in its path was the house where they had left their wives and children.
In disbelief the men watched as the twister reached the home, picking it up, shredding it to pieces. No more was there a building standing there. Flat land now covered with debris and their families.
Soon the wheat market would crash after WWI, then the market crash bringing the great depression followed by the Dust Bowl. Soon the prosperous town of Thurman was in decline. Many people had lost their families and then their hope. Over there were greener looking pastures to move to. In a short time, what had been one of Eastern Colorado’s largest towns had dwindled into a Skelton. The store, gas station and Post Office lasted into the 50’s. The drought was the death knell for Thurman as it was for many of the other plains towns. Dreams were gone, hopes were dashed and a new page had to be started some other place. There are a few descendants in the area that survived all the catastrophe.
Hearing about Thurman and the stories of the tornado, I decided to go looking. I got general directions on where it was and north down the gravel highway I went. Bouncing down the road passing farms and ranches I went. One of the ranches had a huge red barn. Stopping I took a couple of pics of it. On down the road I went and past the Thurman cemetery I went. Oops…. Too far I had driven. Making a U turn I retraced my tracks and just past the red barn I saw some of the buildings and open lots. I had driven past Thurman thinking it was a large ranch complex.
Most of the town was gone, the store was still there and there were some other buildings nearby. I was now looking at vacant land where once almost 600 people had called home. Standing there, the sorrow of the land eased past on the breezes. The lament of other days was a still moan on the land.
At the cemetery were numerous headstones with the same date and how many were unmarked I have no idea. It is a kept graveyard for somebody had recently mowed.
Couple years later I dove that way again, hoping to get some pictures in different light. Again I almost drove past, if it hadn’t been for the big red barn, I would have driven right on through. The few remaining buildings had been razed. Small depressions marking where cellars had been. Otherwise, the buildings of Thurman were gone.
All that’s left to mark Thurman today is the country cemetery north of town and the red barn.