“Most people’s first reaction after a fire is like, you really don’t know what to do next. It burns through, and you’re left with a mess, and you really don’t know what to do with it,” explains Dale Jenkins, Higgins, Texas. “It takes a little bit of time to get your mind around what needs to be done.”

Jenkins is one of many Texan Angus producers affected by wildfires plaguing the state during the last 10 years. His family operation, Littlerobe Angus Ranch, was burned in 2014, 2017 and, most recently, 2024. Jenkins says the operation sustained minor damage in the past, but it was devastated by last year’s wicked flames.  

“The first two fires, ’14 and ’17, burned quite a few acres of grass, but . ..either by working at it or just by sheer luck, none of our cattle were killed,” he says. “This 2024, I lost about 24 head of cows.” 

Efforts were made to move cattle to different pastures and fields away from the fire, but Jenkins recalls during the stressful process, things went astray. 

“I had planned to move some other cattle to a wheat field as well, but the fire by that time really picked up some steam and came upon us,” he says. “Things progress so rapidly.” 

In 2014 and 2024, Jenkins left the herd to help fight the fires, but in that middle fire, there were plenty of helping hands. 

“In 2017, there were some local fire departments out of Oklahoma that came in and were able to keep [the fire] from our home place,” he says. “We probably lost more grass in that fire, but we didn’t have to fight it right on our doorstep that year.”

There was a bright spot in every year of trouble. Jenkins says he was in awe by the support given to their family.

“One of the great things about all three of those experiences, without fail, has been other people’s reaction outside of that being affected, their reaction to want to help you,” he explains. “The first time that we experienced that in 2014, it was really emotionally draining and extremely humbling that people would want to come and bring you a load of hay.”

Strangers called and traveled from across the United States to provide whatever they could to the Jenkins family, whether it was donating supplies, offering monetary support or even volunteering when needed. 

Social media proved a useful tool for Jenkins’s orphaned bottle calves during recovery, too. 

He says, “I came in [to the house] from working about two hours getting these babies to take a bottle, and my wife said, ‘Hey, I saw on Facebook this lady from Childress [Okla.] said she has two Jersey cows in milk, and she’s willing to donate her time and her cows to take care of burnt calves.’ I said, ‘Where is her phone number?’”  

Arrangements were made to send six bottle calves to Kaitlin and Brady Lambert, where they were nursed back to health. Three months later, most of the calves returned to Littlerobe Angus, but one straggler was left behind.

“After talking about it with [Kaitlin], we decided to go get the calves. Expect for one, because her oldest son — I think he was elementary school age — had fallen in love with this heifer, this poor, burnt heifer,” Jenkins says. “He said, ‘Mama, do you think Mr. Jenkins would let me show this heifer?’ So that is the plan.” 

In the charred aftermath of disaster, it was just one part of their recovery that inspired Jenkins. After being approached by a member of the Texas state legislature to sit on a committee to investigate previous fires, he has since helped find future prevention solutions.

“I think there is something to be done there in mitigation; it is not as easy as it sounds,” he says. “I think there are some things that could be done personally from a ranch perspective.”

Keeping grass in lawns and pastures mowed as much as possible, using fire guards on the ranch and utilizing Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) ground are just a few suggestions. When trouble can’t be prevented, Jenkins says there’s a lot of benefit that comes with goodwill donations from other ranchers worldwide and help from the Texas and Southwest Cattlemen’s Association.

“Sometimes it’s hard; as independent as ranchers are, they don’t like accepting help,” he explains. “But learning how to accept help like that without expecting it is really a fine line to walk.”  

Hemphill County Extension agent in Canadian, Texas, Andy Holloway, says with more than a million acres burned, accepting help can sometimes be necessary. 

“The fire of February 26 and 27, called the Smokehouse Creek Fire, it was over a million acres,” Holloway says. “It burned over 70% of Hemphill County.”

That staggering statistic left a mark. Along with the homes and land lost, the county’s cattle herd shrank. 

“Here in Hemphill county, we normally state that we have a cow herd of about 23,000 mother cows — that doesn’t count feedyard cattle or cattle that are on pasture like stocker cattle,” he explains. “Unfortunately, we lost over 7,000 mother cows.” 

As the fire took place before the spring season, Holloway explains heavily pregnant mother cows counted for two losses. With millions of dollars lost in cattle, fencing, grass and pasture, and infrastructure, he says devastation was evident. However, he says a bit of a miracle occurred after the fact.

“We received donations of hay feed, cow cake and fencing supplies literally from over 30 states across our United States of America,” Holloway notes. “I call each of these ‘loads of hope’ with every donation.”

People drove thousands of miles to deliver supplies, showed up to work without expectation of repayment.

As Holloway puts it, “America showed up here, and especially for the ag community.”

An offered hand

Community efforts were huge for Holloway’s neighbors to the east after major tornadoes spun through last spring. 

“We had a few barns that were damaged, but nothing that was totally lost,” says Claremore, Okla., native Sarah Armitage, after an EF3 tornado devastated their hometown. “But our neighbors just a half mile down in the community, their neighborhood pretty much was leveled during the tornado.”

Armitage explains their close friend, who lends a hand with their cattle herd from time to time, lost her home while taking shelter in it during the storm. With only four walls left standing and a chair she was sitting in at the time, the twister took her entire home. 

“So that night, while it was raining and everything, we got over [to our friend’s home] as quickly as we could and just helped salvage what we could rescue from the rain,” Armitage says. 

After seeing that kind of loss, she considered her family lucky.  

“Half of [a barn] blew into our fence, so our crew came out in the middle of the night and got our horses back in and everything, and repaired the fence immediately,” she recalls. 

But that wasn’t the only work to be done. Helping provide power and assistance to others was next on Armitage’s list of rebuilding efforts.

“Water was a big thing for delivery, and there were several meal stations set up,” she notes. “Generators were a big thing, and we had several generators, so we took them around to folks because the Claremore area did not have power for a week, some people up to two weeks in town. I think honestly, generators and extension cords, and manual labor was kind of where we best fit and just helped out whoever we could at the time.” 

After experiencing damage from the Northwestern Iowa floods in June, the Ryan Van Zee says his operation was able to find help beyond the boundary of their local friends and neighbors.  

“There is a government program that’s assisting in the cost to repair the fences and removal of debris and repair lands affected,” he explains. “We did not request [help from the community]; we kind of took care of things ourselves.” 

Van Zee explains with housing crises in their neighboring town, he wanted community action to focus on their larger problems. 

Today, he says recovering from the storm can also look like being prepared for the next time disaster strikes.

“Eventually flooding is going to hit producers, especially producers that have river bottom pastures,” he says. “If heavy rains are coming or if they’ve hit, how are you going to get the livestock out of there? Typically, they’ll go to high ground, but I would say having a plan would be the biggest thing.”

In times when disaster is severe enough, however, Marlin Scott says even the most detailed, meticulous plan can’t do much. The operator of Scott Angus Ranch in Belgrade, Neb., was hit with floods he says were estimated to have as much water as two Missouri Rivers combined in the half mile between his house and town.

When Scott heard people were being evacuated in the areas along the river, he knew the severity of the flood was going to be devastating. 
“I told my family we could lose most of our herd, but we’ll try to save as many as we can,” he says.

As they moved cattle to higher ground, he told his family no one was to take a sorting stick to hit the cattle and no foul names were to be shouted at them. But no matter how quickly and efficiently they moved, the flooding just came faster.  

To his surprise, a miracle occurred that day. He says he could have easily lost 450 pairs, but only had four total losses. 

It was recognizing during the whole ordeal that God is everything, and I mean you start seeing God in your cattle. You see Him putting sandbars around open calf shelters, you see cows moving all on their own without being guided.” — Marlin Scott

It was the Lord’s mercy and help from others that kept them afloat after damage was assessed, he explains. 

“I was using the strength of fellowship from lifelong friendships, and counting my blessings,” Scott adds.

One big blessing came in the form of his friend, Bucky Derflinger of Opal, S.D. 

“He called me the night of the flood and said, ‘How quick do you need me there, and how long you need me to stay?’ I said, ‘Bucky, I wish you were standing here. I need you for a minimum of a week.’”

A trip that should’ve taken Derflinger seven hours to complete ended up taking 15 hours because of all the bridges that were taken out by the flood.

But he stayed the course and helped the Scott family in their time of trouble. It’s people like that, who are willing to show up, volunteer and lend a helping hand when disaster strikes that Scott says make all the difference. 

Finding that positive attitude wasn’t easy, but a trip to Dillon, Mont., after the flood showed Scott the truth. Jim Sitz asked, “What did you learn from that flood?” and Scott had an epiphany.

“I told Jim it was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Scott says. “God made me realize just how great of family and friends I have ... and also the love I have for my way of life, and the place that I live.”

Whether it’s fire, tornado or flood, it’s important to take the steps necessary to try and preserve that way of life even in times of unpredictable disaster. Scott says it’s a matter of when — not if — Mother Nature brings trouble to your operation. 

Taking advantage of tools and resources from a governmental or extension standpoint, having a plan to stay organized when disaster strikes, and accepting help from others in or out of the community has allowed these producers to rebuild. Staying positive and hopeful in the pursuit of recovery is something Holloway stresses. 

“Loads of hope have been brought to our people, and because of that hope, we say every day’s a better day than the day before,” Holloway explains. “It’s still challenging, and there’s a lot to be done; but we’ve got hope.”