Thursday, December 28, 2017

January, February 1978

This picture will be 40 years old in a few days.  Or nearly so.  The winter of 1977-1978 was almost equal to its predecessor '76-'77.  Cold, lots of snow, freezing temperatures, and wind.  We have had bad weeks or months in the years that followed.  But this was one for the record books in my memory.
We had just moved to Gainesville in May of '77.  We were working on the Grandma Harlin house on Harlin Drive and living across the street, on the corner, in what was called the Jim Hale house.  It was small, but fine for us.  It had all the comforts of home...plus a woodstove in the middle of the living room.
I think we spent Christmas in Bethesda, Maryland with Andy's folks that year.  And when we were headed back through Memphis the bad weather met us full blast.  Always a challenge when you are traveling that time of year.  An ice storm came up, or down, from some unknown region...we made it home, but barely.  
School was called off, of course.  And we settled in to wait it out.  Living in town made it easier to get to the grocery store.  When we lived in the Wilderness we were pretty far from the nearest town, but our local store carried milk and bread and we made it fine, when we were able to get out to the main road.  But here in Gainesville it was all downhill...or uphill...depending on which direction you needed to head.  We didn't get the truck out very much.  And we had my mother's Saab parked in the front yard.  For a Swedish car it was useless in ice or snow.
After the first week of snow and blustery weather, we were looking for a  break.  But it didn't come.  No.  Each day brought more snow, more freezing temperatures, no melting on the roads.  
I do remember that at night the kids in town would bring their sleds up to the corner of Harlin and Fair, where our house sat, and make that hill a little more slick than Mother Nature had.  They hauled up tires and set them on fire to keep them warm in between runs down the hill.  And that went on until late in the evening.  In the morning we would go out and pick up the remains of the tires...wire, tire scrap, and try not to track the black remains into the house.
School was cancelled day after day.  I wondered if we would have to extend the school year into June.  That would be bad since none of the schools were air-conditioned and, as you know, the old Elementary was hot as could be when the weather warmed up.  
However the powers that be in Jeff City saw our plight and responded in a logical fashion.  They forgave all the days we were out of session.  They set the end date in May.  And put into law the Snow Day Policy, which said that each district would add so many Snow Days to the school year to be used for bad weather when the buses couldn't run.  And after the Snow Days were used up, there was a forgiveness area that would not cause schools to be in session very much longer than mid May.
I think we finally came back to school in late February.  And how happy all the kids were to see their friends and share the stories about what they did during the Big Snow. 
Oh... you might be wondering about the picture.  Andy was always creative when it came to making snow fun for Nina.  He  took a plastic storage box and made snow blocks.  He built an snow cabin for her to play in in our side yard.  A sheet covered the top. I don't know if she remembers that winter.  She was about grandson Gus's age then.  But her parents do.  And we hope we don't have to endure another one like it anytime soon.  

Sunday, December 10, 2017

December Peace

Tis the season.  Ready or not.  Here it comes.  I stepped outside this morning to do some chores.  The sun was just starting to come up in the east.  Slanting light sparkled in a million blades of frozen grass...leaves became jewels reflecting tiny rays of golden sunshine.  And no wind.  No wind at all.  
The last few weeks have been full of wind.  Whenever I went out there was a breeze stirring or the wind was blowing hard, in gusts, whipping the clothes on the line, making it hard to see at times.
But this morning was different.  Frigid air.  Bright light.  And absolutely not a weed or leaf moving.
I stood for quite some time, just soaking up the wonder of it all.  The quietness of the early day surrounded me.  I didn't see a bird or animal.  No rustling in the trees or grass.  Just complete and utter silence.  Often times in the last few weeks we have had a flock of turkey hens feeding in the pasture.  Or a doe and this year's fawn will be eating grass out behind the back of the house, never stirring until we surprise them with the closing of the door.
I closed my eyes.  I could hear the echoes of the music I heard yesterday.  My favorite tune for this time of year...The Carol of the Bells.  Ringing, ringing.  First softly..one bell, then another joining in...until the air is full of sound.  And then quietly softening until only one bell is heard.
There is magic in a quiet December sunrise.  All the world is waiting.  Can you hear the message in the silence of the early day?  Can you feel the hope rising in your heart?  Can you imagine a world where only the sound of souls in harmony and peace, full of  grace and mercy will break the great stillness of our age?  
You can.  If you step outside and feel the quiet beauty of a  December early morning.
Merry Christmas to all of you...near and far, and always close to my heart.