According to news reports, the winter storm system that just came through the Midwest was ‘geographically the largest recorded.’ I think the Weather Channel said it was over 1,800 miles long, ranging from southern Oklahoma, through Chicago, across the Great Lakes, all the way to Maine. And those in Dallas awaiting this Sunday’s Super Bowl were complaining of ice all the way down there. To be sure, it was a mother of a storm.
Still, I read at least one letter to the editor berating Al Gore as a fool for promoting the dangers of global warming. I guess that reader didn’t read the parts of the report about how when the Earth warms, we can expect more severe storms, summer and winter. I’m sure this writer wasn’t from Brisbane, Australia, either, where those folks have just experienced their worst flooding ever and now have to deal with a category 5 hurricane with wind speeds upwards of 175 mph blowing in.
Oh, the weather, she can be fickle as the Earth warms.
Our part of the storm here in Dayton wasn’t all that bad. Of course, I can say that from looking out from inside our nicely heated home into a night of sleet and freezing rain and then an afternoon of a gentle 2 inch snowfall. We lost power for 6 hours while we slept Wednesday morning. Our neighbors on one side of our street weren’t so lucky. They are now going on their 37th hour without power. The next door neighbor kid said they are looking for a motel tonight.
As a recovering high school teacher, though, I always loved winter weather events. Trouble transporting students seemed to be primary to central office decisions to cancel. Such was okay with me. An unexpected day off in the middle of the week was a true treasure. Sometimes we didn’t learn of the closure until we were supposed to get up and get going. Hearing the radio announcement at 5:30 am, or in later years getting the phone chain call, was something to celebrate as Cindy Lou cheered and then rolled over for more sleep. Me? I often got up and got a fire going in the fireplace. A quiet, warm, snowy house? It doesn’t get much better.
And, yes, since we’ve retired we’ve forgotten most of the unsavory stuff about being in the classroom everyday. No more lesson plans, no more discipline forms to fill out, no more essay grading. For this we are thankful. But snow days? The idea still gets us pumped.
This storm, like other heavy snow fall days, shut down a lot more than local schools. Wright Patterson Air Force Base had ‘system critical’ staff in only. My daughter got a couple days off there. Mailman Sam? He’s our hero. He didn’t miss any delivery days this week, and that’s with super treacherous icy walking. He said a month or so ago on a day not nearly as bad as this week, he fell down a half dozen times. Bless his heart for sticking with it.
For me, and for a few friends I’ve talked to, the beauty of a winter storm like this one is that everybody is impacted. Everybody’s schedule changes. Just about everybody gets to stay home. We’ve been lucky this week to still have power and internet, but even if we didn’t, we would have reveled in the experience as a couple. Like when Hurricane Ike blew through a year or so ago.
Without power, we would have fed the wood burning stove, picked up stuff to read, cooked over the Coleman, talked a bit more, and spent more time -- warm -- in bed.
Now, that’s special, indeed.
Today’s elder idea: Only in winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.
Ruth Stout (1884-1980)
Kansan Quaker writer and gardener
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