I’ve always admitted to loving snow. I can’t wait for the first time it happens each year. Nothing gets me in the Christmas spirit like a good “Charlie Brown” snow. I love it.
BUT!
I have to admit I’m not loving it as much right now.
The last time I can recall seeing all of this snow was back in the 70’s during the great blizzard. Every time I’m out and about and the wind is whipping around, slapping me in the face, I remember fighting Mother Nature back then to get home.
My parents heard the weather reports and decided to go “into town” to get some groceries before the snow hit. I had to go with them. Of course, going into town meant traveling about 3 miles, if that, to the two-aisle general store. John Etling owned it and kept the little town of Sterling stocked with groceries. We didn’t have a big IGA like people did in Rittman. We didn’t have a big supermarket like Buehler’s or Hawkins like they did in Wooster.
We rushed into our little town to get milk, bread and everything else my parents thought we’d need before the storm hit. We got back into the car and zoomed back home. The cinder topped Frick Road didn’t contain a lot of homes. There were only four houses on the street. The township road crews didn’t give it a lot of priority. By the time we got half way to our home, my dad made the decision to turn around and attempt coming in from the other direction. Snow had already blown the bottom part of Frick Road close. The top part of Frick wasn’t much better. Winds whipped across the bare fields that just months before contained corn, hay or soybeans. My dad’s Chevy truck got stuck and it was decided we’d walk the rest of the way back to the house.
I was just a little kid, about 5 years old and walking wasn’t an option for me. My dad carried me, some groceries and a gallon of milk. I wanted to see what was coming at me. It was only one thing, the wind carrying face piercing snow flakes. My dad implored me to turn around. I would listen to him for so long and then get curious again to see where we were going. The winds hit my face again.
The weight of it all was too much for my dad. He had to drop something and it wasn’t (thankfully) going to be his son. The groceries had to be dropped until he could get me home. My mother walked right beside us, trying to get to the house as well. Finally when we got there, someone had to go back out and get the groceries and the milk. My dad took the task and believe it or not, found the groceries and the milk. Milk=white, snow=white = tough job.
So as the snow falls, I have to think back to a time when I didn’t worry about my job, money, relationships, my future. I just wanted to see where I was going. I guess I still do.