1959 - Snow

1959 - Snow

The sunset was stunning.

I was watching an absolutely beautiful sunset in 20 degree weather with temperatures growing lower in sync with the setting sun. A lovely blanket of fresh snow covered everything as far as the eye could see. The only tracks were those made by my brother and me. There was no one in sight. I heard a car go by just over the snow bank but they were muffled and as completely out of sight to me as I was to them. I sat back prepared to take things as they came but a bit of worry wore at the edge of my mind as I contemplated the sunset…I had no choice…I was buried up to my shoulders in snow and there was no getting out without help.

A few hours before my brother, Steve, and I had gone sledding in the ravine that marked the end of our neighborhood. There were steep trails down that lent themselves perfectly to a seriously fast downhill slide. We were well worn by the time we headed back with our Flexi-Flyer dragging along behind. Steve had resisted going back home but with a look at the late afternoon light I knew it was time to head out. At 10 I was responsible for my 8-year-old brother so I knew mom would be pretty upset if I didn’t get both of us home before dark.

The last week had been one snow storm after another. None of them too heavy but definitely adding to and completely covering the previous weeks offering which had been much worse and had dumped several inches of snow that had quickly drifted into high snow banks and covered the roads, lawns and meadows with a level field of snow that went to the horizon. It had been a wet, heavy snow that caused a great deal of grumbling and whining when it was time to shovel the driveway. As it melted during the day and re-froze every night it had built up a deep foundation of wet snow that, when walked through, defined the meaning of “slogging through the snow”. The new offering this weeks of brand new snow was a welcome change. There had been several days of occasional light, fluffy covering that drifted easily and was easy to play in. Every day, as before, the top layer melted a bit and froze every night creating a firm crust that a couple of pre-teens were able to cruise over with very little effort.

Earlier in the week on our way to school we had been walking over drifts that were easily 4-5 feet high with the contribution of street-cleaning adding to the height of the drifts. The drifting snow had filled in all of the holes and drainage ditches in the field as well as any rocks, fallen trees and small bushes. A small lump in the snow revealed an occasional stump or boulder and slight dips revealed ditches and holes…all of which we had navigated all weekend with no problem. I was understandably surprised when the hard crust under my feet gave way and I dropped into a hidden field of wet snow which was, as of the current moment not compacted but protected from melting by the hard crust above. We had walked over a familiar but hidden drainage ditch that was several feet deep when standing at the bottom and of which the walls, easily climbable during the summer, actually towered 2-3 feet over my head. The crusty snow added an additional foot or so to the distance between my feet and the solid ground.

I now found myself sitting on a firm “saddle” of snow that easily compacted itself with the weight of my body. I warned my brother to stay back a-ways while I wrestled myself out of the situation I had found myself. I leaned forward to grasp the hard crust and lever myself up so I could spread my weight over a wider area and clamber out. The hard crust simply broke free from the main field of snow and gave no additional purchase. After a few minutes of trying to get something solid beneath my feet I had managed to kick a void around my legs that extended to the full reach of my legs and feet. On the surface hard crust and soft snow was crushed and fractured from my efforts and extended the full reach of my arms. Stuck on this saddle with no way to extricate myself I asked my brother to stretch out over the snow and hold my hands hoping this would give me the extra traction required to climb out of the hole I had, quite literally, dug for myself. It took sometime to convince him this was our only option but after several minutes of arguing, threatening and cajoling he agreed to try. It took less than 2-seconds to realize this would only result in my pulling him into the same situation I now found myself.

It was looking like dad was going to be the only solution to this predicament. Although Steve didn’t want to leave me alone in the snow he eventually agreed to go the 2-blocks home and retrieve dad. After a few short minutes I heard him coming over the crust that had looked so flat until my eye level was about equal to the snow-level. Now it was revealed that those little 1-foot lumps and dips in the snow, at ground level, were mountains of fluffy white snow that brought my visible horizon to within a couple of feet. For that reason I couldn’t see Steve until he was approximately 20 feet away. He was alone. He certainly wasn’t distressed that his attempt had failed to obtain the requested assistance because he was still confident his big-brother could get himself out of any situation. Ah, the false hopes of the naive!

After a second, more impassioned conversation that probably included offers of candy and comic books as well as threats and tears. Steve left to get dad.

In a very short time I could hear Steve returning. “Wahhh,” rang out across the field. Yep, that was definitely his cry. In sobbing voice he related that the first time dad had not believed him and this time he was no more convincing than he was in his initial request. As a side note here I should perhaps explain we were a family firmly fixed to the humoristic side of life. This included plenty of clever remarks to any innocent statement, puns, jokes and the occasional practical joke. Evidently dad was not about to be fooled into slogging through the snow to be the victim of someone’s misplaced sense of humor.

Attempting to stress the urgency and importance of the situation I had a short but serious conversation with my little brother. The sun was now sinking low and it was getting colder with every passing minute. The conversation ended with my instruction: “Go get dad and don’t come back without him!” That had been half-an-hour ago and there was no Steve in sight or sound. I was a bit worried but knew that panic or crying was not going to help the situation. I kicked about some more but only served to confirm my unfortunate situation. I sat back, watched the sunset and contemplated my next move.

As the sun disappeared over the horizon I heard the joyous sound of my yakking brother talking fast and furious trying to convince dad, who sounded far from joyous that “this isn’t a joke,” and “Larry really is stuck in the snow.” Dad’s reply was somewhere in the neighborhood of “This better not be joke.”, “It’s to darned cold to be playing these games.”, and “If Larry’s not where you say he is there will be serious repercussions.”

I heard the footsteps stop and I looked up in the twilight of dusk. “Hi, dad.”

After a couple of questions and, undoubtedly, a few choice words he lay down in the snow crust and extended his arms for me to grab. As he started to slide forward he directed Steve to sit on his feet to help anchor him in the hard-pack. With very little effort he pulled me to safety.

It seemed that since my instructions had included the direction “Don’t come back without dad,” and as dad was unconvinced, Steve had proceeded to start playing with the new toys he had gotten for Christmas. Some time passed. Some more time passed and mom eventually asked dad, “Bob, have you seen Larry?” He replied that I had gone out to play with my brother earlier that day and hadn’t seen me since. “Steve, where is your brother?” “I told you he’s stuck in the snow and can’t get out.” “I THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDDING!!” “Wahhh, no, I told you, wahhh.” Once they had calmed Steve down (wadda crybaby!) and gotten the full story out of him dad proceeded to get boots, jacket and scarf for a trip into the elements. With an occasional “You better not be kidding me.” They headed out on the rescue mission to my everlasting gratitude.

Ah, winter in the Midwest. Just another regular day in the life of those who live where the world dies once a year and refreshes itself every spring. Ahhh.

…And a simple illustration of just one of the many reasons I now live in San Diego.