The Great St. Joseph's Day Blizzard

The Great Saint Joseph's Day Blizzard

 

On 19 March 2012, our area was pounded with a heavy pre-spring blizzard; it was quite a nasty one, and the first really ferocious taste of winter we had received for teh 2011/2012 season. Roads and businesses were closed as heavy, wet snow fell copiously and quickly, bringing down power lines and making travel extremely hazardous. The power went out early that morning and stayed out most of the day in some areas, and longer than that in others. At my parents' place, it was it was more than three days before their power came back on.
 
My own place of business closed before noon, but I was stuck in town for several hours while the highway to home, 20 miles away, was closed by the Montana Highway Patrol due to the blizzard. We sat by the fireplace at my sister's home for several hours; I read a book as my niece played and enjoyed the day, and waited for the roads to open or at least for the power to come back on, but to no avail.
 
Finally, by late afternoon, I had had enough, and resolved to get home to my family. The snow was still falling, still wet and heavy, but by now the snowplows had surely had a chance to clear the highway, right? One way or the other, I was going to find out.
 
I drove to the edge of town; the streets were wet, slippery and slushy/snowy, but I have been driving under similar conditions since I was 14. During my 20s I lived in Spearfish, South Dakota, an area of heavy, snowy winters. I worked at the Spearfish Canyon Lodge, and often, due to the late hour that I was off work, I was the one who had to blaze a trail through 12 miles of Spearfish Canyon after a snowfall. Thanks to these experiences, I was prepared for the hazards and knew how to drive under these conditions, but it is never easy, or fun. Often, the biggest danger comes not from the road conditions, but from the other drivers on the road; however, that wouldn't be a factor today, for the roads were still closed.
 
Undaunted, and knowing that I was needed at home, where my family waited, I drove past the barricades and carefully started down the highway to home. The roads were indeed wet and slick, and visibility was very bad, but slow, steady and careful driving prevailed. Halfway home, I saw the downed power lines and poles, hanging like giant, steel strands of a spider's web. There were no other vehicles on the highway, except for a utility truck or two.
 
The last five miles were probably the worst; we all hear that most accidents happen close to home, and statistically this is true; however, on this day, the heaviest snow, the least visibility, and the slipperiest roads were during that last five miles, bringing a new awareness to that particular, dry factoid. Luckily, it is an arrow-straight stretch, and I had the highway to myself; thanks to this circumstance, I had plenty of room to maneuver carefully. I finally made it to town, where I saw more downed power lines, emergency crews and utility trucks, and carefully threaded my way home. The 20-mile trip took nearly an hour, altogether.
 
When I got home, the power was still out (and would be until about 4:30 the next morning); our newer telephones, running on power from the wall, were not working, but my dad, who had worked for the local telephone company before retiring, brought in an old, rotary phone, needing no power other than that provided by the phone line, so that we would be able to call someone in case of emergency. The day was late and the house was starting to darken, so we gathered up what candles we had and lit them in the living room, providing some light and a perfect atmosphere for conversation and fellowship without the interloping of television, electronic games, phone calls and other distractions.
 
It was a cold day and, with no heat, the temperatures in the house dropping as well, this late in the day; one of the boys lamented the imminent cold sandwiches or other improvised supper lacking in heat, and I said, "Are you kidding? Fire up the grill and let's see what we've got!"

As the last of the light faded from the sky and the candles provided their bleak light and shadows, we ate a hot, belly-filling, satisfying meal, and spent the early evening talking about the strange day and our increasingly-grandiose plans for the sunny arrival of spring, which, according to the calendar, was only a couple of days away. It was hard to believe on a day like this, with the bleakest of winter conditions, but the knowledge helped to warm the spirit, and though there was no heat in the house, none of us shivered from the cold.
 
It was quite an unusual and, some would say, bad day, but because of that wonderful meal, it will always be one of my happiest memories spent with my family at home.