Stuck in the Snow

Let me tell you a snow story. It’s a true story and it happened to me during the winter of 1963. I tell you this story to illustrate why we Maineiacs who have migrated to warmer climes don’t get too excited when we see a snowflake or two outside our window. I have no doubt that many of my fellow Maineiacs have been through similar storms and been in similar situations.

In 1963 I was a senior at Washington State Teachers College located in downeast Maine in Machias. The school is now part of the University of Maine. It was a tough winter that year, with storm after storm burying us in our dorms and canceling classes on occasion. But we tried to carry on as usual.

At that time, teachers were in great demand. You could usually have your pick of locations and teaching positions once you graduated. As it happened, my friend and classmate and future roommate after college, Lucille Valiant, and I decided it might be a wonderful adventure to teach in California. That winter of 1963 interviews were being given in Boston for teaching positions in California. Great, we said, let’s go see what they have to say.

Well as you know, Machias, Maine is a heck of a long ways from Boston. I had been to Boston several times as I had relatives there and Lucy was from Connecticut. Therefore, we were not totally ignorant of the area. We were young and daring in those days. Never would I take off on such a trek today in the middle of winter.

Anyways we made our way to Boston somehow. I don’t remember how. We stayed overnight with a friend of hers in Boston who had an apartment. She was in the service, Army I think. She had this cute apartment with a TV mounted on the wall that was always on. That was a unique thing to me at the time. I thought she was very sophisticated and I hoped Lucy and I could find a similar place to live once we graduated.

The next day, we dressed to kill, and met with the California recruiter in a hotel somewhere. He was nice as I remember and he promised to be in touch with us soon. Fine. We were optimistic.

After the interview, we had to get back to school for classes the following Monday. It was now Saturday. I think my father came down from  Maine to get us. At least he drove us partway or up as far as Rockland. We were not concerned about the weather report. If it snowed, it snowed. We were prepared to get on back to school, at least we thought so.

We had left for home directly after the interview. Lucy was still dressed in a suit with a skirt, pantyhose and flats. I think I changed clothes. I do remember I at least had boots on.

We were to meet up with a couple other coed friends from school up by the Shell station on Park Street, just across from the bypass over Broadway, headed for school downeast. The girl driving, was Barbara, a senior like us. It was her car, a Morris Minor. You remember that car and how small it was? She was there waiting for us, which in itself was a miracle. Making connections from Boston to meet here was a fete considering it was in the days before cell phones.

We’d hit snow almost from the time we left Boston and it snowed all the way home. By the time we got to Rockland, it was a blizzard. It was now afternoon as we spied Barbara waiting for us at the station. I kissed Dad goodbye and Lucy and I jumped into the Morris Minor and off the four of us went up over the bypass.

The trip from Boston took about four hours or so and it was another three-hour drive to Machias—on a good day. Today was not a good day, however, as we were soon to find out.

My mother, of course, was furious with my father for letting us continue on to school. She would rather have put all four of us up for the night rather than see us travel down those twisty, curvy, desolate roads to school. She sat in front of the TV waiting for weather news and worried about us. There was no way to stop us at that point, so they had to hope we made it all right. My mother did call ahead to our dorm in Machias and implored the housemother to have me call home as soon as I got there.

To make matters worse, when the news came on, my folks learned that four women had gone off the road in their car and into a creek and drowned. The location given was the same direction we were going in the Morris Minor. No names were given at that time pending notification to the next of kin. Of course my mother was certain it was the four of us girls. It was a long night for the folks, to be sure.

I don’t remember how long it took us to get through the woods or into the home stretch to school but it seemed like forever. The snow was coming sideways and drifts blew back and forth in front of us. It was hard to keep the windshield clear enough to see. When we got to the blueberry fields outside of Machias, we couldn’t see the road at all. It was a whiteout to end all whiteouts. We could have been driving in someone's pasture.

At that point, Barbara decided she’d better head for her Uncle’s place, where she lived while she was going to school. She thought maybe he could get us over to the school in the truck better than she could in her small car.

We did manage to get to that destination as the darkness closed in on us. There are no streetlights here. When it gets dark, it’s dark, believe me. Her uncle had a small pickup with a small cab. He stuffed three of us girls in the cab with him and away we went to try to get up the hill over at the college.

The college stood on top of a huge hill. We were approaching it from the top end so we didn’t have to worry about trying to get up it, but he did have to get us up the small hill to our dorm.  However, as we were to learn later, the plow had plowed the hill several times during that day. Within an hour it would be full of snow again.

Barbara’s uncle could only get us half way up to our dorm. We had a distance of several yards to go to get to safety. I left my suitcase in the truck so I could concentrate on getting myself to safety. Lucy, however, just couldn’t live without her train case, so she carried it with her as we stepped out into waist deep snow.

Remember that Lucy was not dressed for a blizzard with no boots or even a heavy coat. I helped her as best I could but it was a struggle for both of us with the snow blowing in our faces as we plodded inch by inch through the snow. We could see the door ahead of us but it looked so far away and no one seemed to be looking out the door for us either. We felt very alone in that raging storm.

At one point, Lucy stopped moving saying she couldn’t go on any further. I had to beg her and pull on her and practically carry her till we finally made it in the door.

Our housemother was actually just inside the door, but had been unable to see us coming through the big drifts. She told me to call my mother immediately, which I did.

Once we got Lucy thawed out and warmed up, we were thankful to still be alive. We learned about the women who had driven off the road. As it happened, they had gone bowling and were on the way home. One of the women was our biology professor’s wife.  He kept the outside light burning for her long after that night and he was never the same again.

As it happened, they cancelled classes on Monday, so we hadn’t needed to get back so soon anyway. We didn’t get offered a job in California either.

So that’s my story As you will agree I’m sure, after being through something like that, trying to navigate over a few icy patches doesn’t seem like such a big deal does it.

Thanks for listening.

PS: My brother, Ted, reported this morning that the temperature up home is 2 below with snow and freezing rain predicted.


Do you have a snow story you'd like to share? I welcome all email stories with pictures if possible.

Aerial view of the University of Maine at Machias

 with the town of Machias below it.