1978- I Kinda Sorta Remember

As part of “Blizzard Week”, I thought I would share a few more snow anecdotes with you. Jamie reminded me about the February 1978 blizzard, when Dad walked from his apartment in Lake Hiawatha to our home in Boonton.

Grandma, Aunt Ar and I were vacationing in Florida, unaware when we left New Jersey the size of the storm we would be missing. We were gone before the first flakes hit—that I am certain because this storm, which began late Sunday afternoon, shut down the state for three days. All schools, businesses and airports were all closed. The mail was not delivered for two days, and it was only the second time in its 212-year history that Rutgers canceled classes.

Similar to what happened during the blizzard this past weekend, people were stranded in their cars and at the airport, and the Jersey shore suffered much damage as well. So when Dad realized he would be stuck alone in his apartment for a few days, he decided to hike to my house, where he could hang out with my brothers, Aunt El, and Grandpa. He was working at the same company as Grandpa, so he figured he could always hitch a ride to work with him if necessary.

Meanwhile, the three of us were down in sunny Florida. Aunt Ar was looking forward to catching some rays somewhere, but that never happened. While we had no snow, it was very cold at the beginning of the trip—30’s and 40’s cold. There was no sunbathing or swimming, so Grandma and I decided a trip to Cape Canaveral would be fun. Aunt Ar was not pleased, and I remember a lot of complaining on her part. I believe she has been harboring feelings of bitterness towards me since then. In retrospect, we should have left her behind at the hotel while we were getting educated about the wonders of space travel.

We then headed to Disney World where Aunt Ar and I made Grandma ride on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride by herself, while we were in another car together in front of her.  It was funny to see the expression on her face at the end of the ride!

Sometime during that trip, we visited my Aunt Helen and Uncle Joe and I admit I don’t remember a single detail of that visit. If Aunt Ar finds out, she will laugh and blame it on my age. Was it that bad so I am blocking it out, or is my brain really beginning to deteriorate? It’s probably a bit of both.

All I know is that as cold as it was (and I do remember that the temperature warmed up by the conclusion of the trip), it was still far better than being trapped at home by the blizzard. I must say that I was very impressed with Dad for making the 3 ½ mile trip—up two hills in frigid temperatures between 3 and 15 degrees. He really did not enjoy being alone!

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