The Chicago Blizzard of 1967

The whole east/southeast portion of the US is now preparing for what weather forecasters are calling a snowstorm of "historic proportions".  Several feet of snow have been predicted for the D.C. area, with places to the south--places that are not used to handling large amounts of snow on the roadways--will receive snow up to a foot.  It looks as though my portion of Indiana will be spared, but we all watch and wait (and pray) for our neighbors to the east and south.  It should be interesting, at best.

The only time I ever experienced that much snow was in January of 1967.  I was in college at Illinois State University in Normal, Illinois.  Home was in Oak Park, Illinois, a western suburb of Chicago.  January 24th was the last day of classes before semester break, but before I could leave for home, I had to move my worldly belongings from the dormitory I was in to another dorm on campus.  My then-boyfriend had a car to help.  We had a plan: we would move my stuff, then drive to Peoria where his family lived.  I would spend the weekend there, then head home by train (alone).  My father would pick me up at Union Station in Chicago.  That was the idea, anyway...

That day was unseasonably warm.  At 65 degrees, the weather was a blessing.  Here we were in shirtsleeves, making trip after trip from the car up to the new dorm room with all of my personal effects.  In January??  Wow!  When we were done, we left for Peoria--a mere hour away.  I spent the next couple of days  visiting with Bill's family.  There were rumors of a snow storm that would pass through the Chicago area, but it was winter and to be expected.  I thought nothing of it.

On travel day, I got up to nine inches of white stuff on the ground in Peoria.  The trains to Chicago weren't running.  The news indicated that Chicago had been socked with two feet of unpredicted snow.  It seems that the moisture-filled winter storm had unexpectedtly stalled over Chicago.  Instead of distributing that frozen moisture all over the Midwest as the storm moved through, it didn't pass quickly.  I had no choice but to stay in Peoria another day.

I called my folks to let them know that I wouldn't be home that day but would get there as soon as the trains could make it.  Dad answered the phone.  (That may not mean much to some, but in our household, Dad NEVER answered the phone.  He usually left that to Mom.  I thought it a bit strange.) I asked him how things were there and listened as he said they were snowed in, then explained my situation.  Then I asked to speak to Mom.  This is how that conversation transpired:

Me:  Let me talk to Mom for a minute.
He:  She's not here.
Me:  What do you mean she's not there???
He:  She didn't come home from school yesterday.
Me:  Where is she??
He:  I don't know.  She's not at school.  I called the police to ask if they had any information about her and told them I was going to go out and look for her, but they told me that I absolutely should not do that.  So I'm waiting for some word.

He sounded worried, and of course, I was instantly concerned.  My mother taught 2nd grade in Addison, Illinois, to the west of Oak Park a few miles.  I think her normal commute was about 30 minutes, but she hadn't made it home.  I left Dad with the phone number of where I was in Peoria and begged him to call me when/if he had any news.  I do not recall how or when--or even if--I got that call.  I do know that Mom eventually made it home, and so did I.  She'd had a snowstorm adventure!

And here is her side of the story:
As the snow started to pile up outside that afternoon, with roads getting more and more treacherous by the minute, Mom's principal showed up in her classroom and said, "You have the farthest to travel to get home, Margaret.  I will watch your class for the rest of the day.  You go now."  She got herself together and left, stopping at a gas station to fill up the car before she hit the road for Oak Park.  (She later said it was the smartest thing she had ever done.)

If you know anything about the Chicago suburbs, you understand that there is no empty space between communities.  The only boundaries are streets.  Once you cross certain streets, you are automatically in a different village.  The area my mother traveled--Lake Street--from Addison to Oak Park wasn't out in the country somewhere.  It was all city, residential or commercial, depending on the area.  In other words, her commute home that day would not put her in some lonely, isolated area.
Somewhere along the way, vehicles in traffic began to snarl and get stuck in the unplowed snow.  Mom found herself in the middle of it all.  She couldn't move because the cars all around her weren't going anywhere.  And so it was, for hours and hours, stuck on Lake Street somewhere in the western 'burbs.  Mom had left school at 2:00 PM.  By 5:00, it was dark, with no help in sight.  She determined that she was going to have to spend the night in the car.  (This is where the full tank of gas came in handy.)  No cell phones in those days.  She had no emergency supplies in the vehicle.  She ran the car to get warm, then would turn it off and try to doze.  I'm not sure what she did for bathroom needs, but I am quite certain that she didn't get much sleep that night!

When daylight occurred--and my memory of her story gets fuzzy here--I believe some Good Samaritan brought her a cup of coffee.  Maybe she was even offered a place to go to make a phone call and/or get warm.  I don't remember.  When crews arrived many hours later to try to free up Lake Street, they saw that she had snow tires on the car and determined to dig her out first.  (My father was religious about making sure that his family members had decent tires on their vehicles.  Even me when I was an adult!)  She finally arrived home, exhausted and hungry, at 3:00 PM the day after she had left school.  She was there when I arrived.  I was never so happy to see anyone in my life!!  

The lessons to be learned in all of this are many.  Suffice it to say that we need to be vigilant, and we need to be prepared.  Family is everything.  Snow may inconvenience us, but the human spirit is strong.  Look out for family, of course...but also look out for the neighbor who may need help in the face of Nature's disasters.

My thoughts and prayers are focused on the East Coast today as the monster snowstorm is about to hit.  They've had plenty of warning.  It will make memories such as mine!