Before I dig wholeheartedly into this, I will tell you that the blizzard of 78 had a lot of snow and the wind chills were incredibly cold, But I recall the winter of 1977 as being one of the coldest and longest.
I remember there was an outside thermometer on a window in a room next to my bedroom.
I remember it staying well below zero for a week and my Dad telling me " If that goes on for another 5 or 6 days, it will be time to go ice fishing."
We did go.
Back to the Blizzard.
Wednesday, January 25th, 1978 started out about like any other Midwestern winter day.
It was a cold morning waiting on the bus outside. The ride was somewhat cold as well with the bus driver keeping the interior lights on as early morning darkness loomed.
Sometime in the mid-morning, I walked along the hall to my next class. As I passed one of the school entryways, I looked out and noticed the wind was blowing snow around.
The school intercom had blurted out its usual string of announcements earlier, and for now, remained silent.
I had a gym class after lunch and was looking forward to it. Not really the gym class itself, but afterwards my woodshop class had a special project of hanging plaques in one of the schools hallways. Only a few of us had been asked to help out.
But, as fate had it, it'd be much later.
Around 10:45 am, the intercom broke it's silence and announced that at 12:30 anyone riding a bus home would be boarding.
My heart sank some, but I couldn't be sad about getting out of school early.
I listened as the cancellation of several after-school activities were crackled through the loudspeakers.
I remember passing and saying hi to Tim, a friend of mine who was in the woodshop class.
At least, Tim could still walk home. He lived only two blocks from the school.
I lived miles away.
After lunch, I did show up at the gym, but everyone just kind of hung out because there was only 20 minutes of the day left.
The gym teacher made a few announcements, and had everyone sit on the bleachers for a bit.
The intercom, once again came to life, releasing the younger students first.
When our turn came, I made a beeline for my locker, grabbed some things and headed for the nearest door.
The wind was stiff and cold.
A few of the teachers had bundled up and were outside making sure everyone got to their bus.
On our bus, the older high school students sat in the back. I ended up third seat up from the back.
In good weather with warm and dry roads, the trip home took around 45 minutes.
The small town I lived in was almost the last stop.
The town that the high school was in was small, but larger than the town I lived in.
The two towns were only 5 miles apart, traveling straight by road.
The route my bus took criss-crossed the flatlands. Most of the riders lived in the country.
As the bus turned from the school driveway onto the highway, I felt the back end of the bus slip.
As the bus got out of town, it was obvious that conditions were not good, and with the wind starting to howl, were definitely not going to improve.
Our bus driver was also a volunteer fireman, and ran a barbershop.
After a while, I became familiar with the sound of the snow crunching underneath the tires.
On a few occasions, the wind would actually shift the back of the bus and the driver would countersteer, and we would all get jostled some.
Most of us laughed it off.
It seemed that not everyone rode the bus home. I was thinking maybe their parents had picked them up or had them stay home in the morning.
There came a little surprise as the bus came to a stop at a t-intersection.
To my surprise the driver turned to the right. I couldn't figure that out because there was only one house down that road, and that student was not on the bus. As a matter of fact, he had moved away.
When the driver got to that house, he turned around and headed back without opening the door.
I realized that if the driver would have turned left at the t-road, he would be trying to get up a hill from a dead stop.
Along our route there was a crossroads that, in good weather, and if you had a note from your parents, you could get off at that intersection and walk about a quarter mile to town.
The driver came to the intersection. We already knew he was not going to open the door.
Almost Home.
there were three more stops to go.
At the next stop, the bus driver put on the parking brake, got out of his seat and turned toward us.
"I want everybody sitting in the seats over the wheel wells. The same number on each side."
We quickly did what he said and now I sat with my feet on the wheel well.
The bus moved on.
Sitting in the wheel well spot, I could hear a hissing sound when the bus got up to speed. It was all the snow sticking to the tires and going through the wheel wells.
We passed through a wide open area and the wind blew so much snow that if you looked out the window, all you saw was white.
Finally we got to our stop. I stepped off. The wind had increased and so had the cold. As I walked about a half block to home, I felt my fingers starting to get numb.
I tried to keep one of my hands in my pocket as I stepped through a foot-high drift crossing an alley.
When I got home, I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall.
It was 3:10 pm.
A trip that normally took around 45 minutes had taken about 2 hours.
Mom told me that Dad was on his way home. He had called Mom a little after 12 and told her he was getting ready to head home.
There was a man named Roger who worked with Dad. Roger lived about 2 miles south of our town.
Dad told Mom he was going to follow Roger out so far, then Roger would turn off and head up a different road.
At around 4:00pm, Dad got home. He said he did follow Roger and then turned off.
A little later, our phone rang. It was Roger's wife. She told Mom that he was watching out the front window and had not seen Roger yet.
My Mom and Roger's wife started talking for a bit.
Then Roger's wife told Mom she heard a noise at the back door.
It was Roger.
Apparently, Roger had taken a road that ran 2 miles south of his house that curved around, but did not make it to the curve.
He ended up making his way through two farm fields to get to his back door.
Eventually, there were 4 foot drifts in front of our house. The snow and wind continued through that night and into the next day.
We were at home for the next 3 days.
On Thursday, during the day, a supervisor from the local boys home rode around town on a snowmobile, leaving a path of packed snow that made for easier walking.
There was no school for the rest of the week.
A friend and I got up on the snowmobile path and made our way to the only gas station in Town.
We managed to dig out around the pop machine, drop in some quarters and take home a soda.
If I recall correctly, the streets got somewhat opened up by the following Saturday.
And on that Saturday, the supervisor from the boys home came by again on the snowmobile.
The boys school did farming and their shop was next door. I knew the supervisor and sometimes stopped by and talked with him.
He pulled up and asked me if I wanted to take a ride.
I was already bundled up good for shoveling snow, so I got on and we went for a ride.
We went through one field and right into the next one. the fences were covered with 2 feet of snow in most places.
It was a blast.
After dropping me off, he headed to the shop to check on things.
By Sunday, we had one car dug out and running.
there were awfully huge drifts out in the county.
There was one that everyone bypassed for about a week until the highway department could get the equipment there to break it down.
I remember that the next week temperatures rose somewhat to around 30°f, which made it more enjoyable outside.
I remember that during that week, a neighbor stopped and talked to us from his car telling us it would be in the 40's the next week.
He was right.
Since that time, I have not yet seen a snowstorm that has equalled the snowfall amounts or winds that that storm possessed.
There have been some that were actually colder-I remember January of 84 when windchill was around -30°f.
I remember spitting on a pile of bricks in the backyard and it spattered like water on a hot skillet.
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