esrosedotblog

WHITEOUT

Every time there is a blizzard in the northeast, I have two conflicting reactions.

The first is a deep gratitude that we are not having it first hand; that we moved out of harm's way.

Second, I have a twingy kind of nostalgia to both play and suffer the hardships of such a storm.

I get fond memories about the time in 1978 when Boston was closed down for a week, and more, by a blizzard that put ten foot drifts on Charles Street.

John and I had plane tickets to Ft. Lauderdale and, luckily, were able to catch the first train out of Back Bay station, get to New York, then Newark which had been hit, but not as badly. It was SRO on the train and the plane out of Newark was very late.

We got to Lauderdale at 4 or 5 in the morning. People we knew were stranded there because the planes were not flying into Boston either. But, they had a room for us and we had a great time riding out the rest of the recovery period in the sun.

I remember walking through Beacon Hill area in the snow with our suitcases and people yelling at us. "Where are you going?" "South!" And getting snowballs thrown at us.

Today, blizzards are out of the picture; although, we did have a 70 year rain storm here in PS last week; floods. Then very high wind when the new weather front came in; broken trees. Just to top it off, a day or two later, we had an earthquake big enough to shake the complacency a little bit. All in a few days.

But none of that is like a blizzard. Days in the house, events canceled, life put on hold, shoveling yourself out, bitter cold, blowing icy snow down the neck, and, of course, snow angels!