There are those surreal days one remembers all of his life. Mine are where I was when John Lennon was shot, where I was on 9/11 and what happened on Tuesday, January 28 which is now being referred to by some as Snoblivion 2014.
The day began with consensus by the weather predictors: a light dusting of a half-inch or so for Birmingham. Those south of us would feel the brunt of this one. There was a level of decision making that had to be done at the Harvill house - will there be school? do we have enough bread and milk? . . .basic stuff that usually ends up in a trip to the store and another day in class or at work.
then it snowed. . .
I was at the house when it began and since I saw my first real snow at 19, I always find myself impressed with the frozen stuff anytime it descends. But, since it would only be "'a dusting", I could enjoy the weather and get on with my workday. Then it started to stick.
After a stop at the local UPS store and bank, I began my usual trip back over the mountain toward the house. The 2-lane road was backed up from the road that leads to our subdivision. No progress in sight. So, turning around through the crunch of snow gathering around my wheels I head toward 280, the highway that becomes my Plan B.
I quickly learn that, while it is my only option, it's going to take much longer than the usual 3-minute shot to the house. The 4-lane is moving at a snail's pace. The snow is accumulating. And, as if I'm the only one with the idea, I take a shortcut which only places me in the queue with 40 other cars whose drivers had the same unique idea. The short of it is, it took me 2-hours to get home. Slow, yes. But at least the road was passable.
When I arrived at the house, Tessa and Jonathan had been a bit concerned. Having thought I had done my due diligence in texting, I realized that by saying I was at the local bakery (as a landmark), they thought I was stopping for coffee. Stress was present. We talked it through and realized we were all a bit anxious. . .
As the afternoon progressed, it looked as if Beth would be spending the night at the school. Parents were unable to get to their children to bring them home. Our school/church became a shelter for the night. Beth would eventually have 9 of her 3rd grade students with her for the duration. Stories from around town were emerging about abandoned cars, people walking across town from those abandoned cars to try and make it home for the night. Some of the students committed to a 50-minute walk from the school to our house where a warm shower and food awaited.
Tessa, Jonathan and I had sought to capitalize on what was left of the passable road to get gas, pick up what groceries we could, then head back toward the school to pick up those who were heading our way. Got the gas, got some food and turned back toward the house only to find Hwy 119 BARELY moving. What had seemed like a quick jaunt home turned into another hour of delay. The black ice was forming and we began to slide intermittently. At one point, I wondered if we were going to slide into the drain at the base of an embankment. The Harvill kids were fully aware of my increasing anxiety.
We eventually made it home and greeted the students who had arrived before us. A few more would arrive later. After taking inventory of the cabinets and fridge we decided upon grilled cheese, nachos and spicy bean dip. All were fed as night fell.
Our 1st Polar Bear Club experience was hastily organized. I say "Our" only because it took place at my house; I had absolutely no intention of participating beyond documenting the event with my iPhone. Here is the clip: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10203205209794073
Following an evening of hanging out in the theater room, random surrender to sleep, blowing up air mattresses and a late night journey somewhere into snowdom by the guys, we settled in. Beth and I texted our individual states of the union and said goodnight.
By morning, Beth was on her way home (thanks to Alan Thompson!) as, one by one, the guests here made their way to the living room to watch and discuss the news headlines from the 1st Birmingham weather event of 2014. We will be stuck here without work and school at least through tomorrow. This has become the next surreal event that will be talked about for years to come. . .
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