Some Snow Memories

Growing up in Macon, Georgia, snow was a bit of a rarity. When it did hit, a quarter inch could effectively shut down the city. There were no plows, salt trucks, or even snow shovels unless someone had moved there with one. I didn’t have my first white Christmas until I moved up here to Indiana. Been there, done that, a couple of times now and am good with not doing it again to be honest.

Our recent snow here was not bad by local standards, but the sub-zero temps were not fun. Something to do with critters sparked a bit of memory from the one real snow Macon has gotten in my lifetime. The great snow of ’73.

When I say great snow, I’m not joking. Here, 20+ inches in a bad storm isn’t really uncommon. In Macon, getting around 18 inches (what we measured, not sure the official measurement) was catastrophic. That’s what hit us, and everything did indeed shut down, including the power. Think that’s where I got my first large lesson on practical preparedness.

When my parents built the house, Dad had insisted on gas lines being run with outlets in key spots. Out in one of the utility rooms, we had old-school gas radiant heaters. They got cleaned up, brought inside, and hooked up so our house stayed warm. Had some of the neighbors come over for warm-up sessions since they had no heat. The government not having f’ed up gas stoves in the name of safety and efficiency at that point, our gas stove with those evil pilot lights worked like a charm, as did the oven. So, hot food, hot drinks, warm-up spot, we did right by the neighbors. Between flashlights, candles, and lamps, we had light too.

I think our beagle, Ralph, was over the whole thing before anyone else. When it first was snowing and all were home safe, it was a great adventure. The dog and I both had a blast playing in the snow. Soon enough, however, the snow was so deep we could barely see the tip of Ralph’s tail moving across the back yard. Could not see him at all, other than the tail. When he made it to the sliding glass door to come in, the look on his face clearly conveyed his opinion that this was bull****. He only went out when he absolutely had to go after that point.

For some reason I think Dad did have a scoop shovel, so we could clear a little bit at need. However, we and the rest of Macon pretty much had to wait for things to melt before the city could reopen. I remember that some smartass town in Alaska sent the mayor a single snow shovel as a gift to help with next time.

Just an odd memory that popped up, and one that made me laugh remembering the dog having to play snow shark…

Getting hit by lightning is not fun! If you would like to help me in my recovery efforts, which include moving once we have medical issues cleared up, feel free to hit the fundraiser at A New Life on GiveSendGo, use the options in the Tip Jar in the upper right, or drop me a line to discuss other methods. It is thanks to your gifts and prayers that I am still going. Thank you.