It seems like at least once a year, we chase a few tornados in 70-degree weather and within the next few days we raid the grocery store for supplies for a winter storm. Such was the case this week when The Enterprise-Tocsin began the week on Sunday evening by tracking a strong storm system that brought multiple tornado warnings to Sunflower County and the Delta. That system was a little weaker up this way than had been predicted, but the cold that promised to follow has lived up to expectations. As I am writing this, we are under a winter storm warning, expecting a mix of snow, sleet and freezing rain on Thursday into Friday. If you are in Sunflower County and you are reading this on Friday, the storm probably fizzled out. If you are reading this on Monday, there was probably enough wintry precipitation to cause a delay in delivery.
Either way, subscribers can always enjoy the latest edition of The E-T in electronic format on our website. My kids have been praying all week for snow. Of course, snow for them likely means no school. For the adults in the household, snow means that getting work done will be a little more difficult. I definitely don’t feel the same way about winter weather now than I did when I was their age. These days, I have an appreciation for how my parents must have felt when the roads iced over and they were stuck in the house, sometimes for days, with four kids. Many of those storms, like the ice storms of 1988 and 1994, the electricity was out for most the time. I can remember still having an affinity for snow into my college years. That was until I took a “spring break” trip with my friends out west. It was March, mind you, and it is was snowing hard by the time we got to Flagstaff.
The winter weather let up in the warmer parts of Nevada and California, but by the time we got to the Pacific Northwest, there was several feet of snow on the ground. By the time we got back to Mississippi, I said that I could care less if I ever saw another flake of snow. That was even more solidified in January 2014. My wife Callie and I had just moved to Birmingham, where I had taken a job as a real estate reporter downtown, while we lived across the mountain in Hoover. It was my second day on the job, and there was a corporate bigwig in the building that day. We were in meetings for most of the morning, discussing content strategies and such, and no one had bothered to open a window. By the time we took our 10:30 a.m. break, the snow was coming down hard. It was a frigid 19 degrees, and this stuff was freezing when it hit the ground.
The exec said, “I’ve got to catch a flight back to Seattle this afternoon.” Our publisher responded, “I don’t think you’re getting on a plane today.” Not only did he not make his flight, most people who were driving were not able to get off of the road. That day became known in the annals of Birmingham history as Snowmageddon. Thousands of cars were abandoned on interstates all over the metro, as people ran out of gas and heat as they waited in traffic. Many spent the night in Walmart stores, Chick-fil-A restaurants and schools. I spent the night at the office. It really was the most awkward second day of work that I’ve ever experienced. The office building’s central heat could barely keep up with the falling temperatures.
It was so cold that at one point I was found asleep, clutching a running space heater to my chest. There was a small grocery store just up the hill from the office, so some of the staff trekked through the snow to buy supplies. Given that most of the customers that night were stranded office workers, the shelves were fully stocked with bread and milk, beer, frozen pizza and toothbrushes, however, were very hard to come by. Meanwhile, my wife and my mother-in-law were back at our apartment about 20 miles away. By mid-afternoon the next day, most of the locals had found a ride out of the downtown area. I didn’t know anybody, and having a 1998 Toyota Camry, I didn’t stand a chance to make it up the 22nd Avenue hill to Montgomery Highway.
I told my dad that I was facing another night at the office, this time likely alone. He told me to sit tight and that he would make the trip from Mississippi to Birmingham in his four-wheel-drive Jeep. I tried to discourage it. Okay, I didn’t really. I wanted to get out of there. About four hours later, he called me and said that he was on Montgomery Highway. I walked the small stretch from the office to the main road, and he picked me up there. It was not easy, even in his Jeep, getting back over the mountain.
There were still thousands of stranded cars out there, most of them dragged by this point to the side of the road. We thought that we had hit the end of the line just before we got to Brookwood Hospital, but a nice police officer gave us directions into Homewood that allowed us to get around an area that had been blocked off. It took about an hour-and-a-half to make the usual 30-minute drive, but we made it home. I still don’t like the snow and ice, but these past few years, I have enjoyed the smalltown ice storm experience much more than the one in the big city. I could care less if I ever saw another flake of snow, but my kids like it, so I guess I’ll tolerate it. Just as long as I don’t have to spend the night at work.
