Reminds Me of '93

The weather this year has been really interesting here in the Northwestern NC mountains. We have had more snow this year than in the last five combined. We've missed more school than we have since probably the blizzard of 1993.

That was the first year I spent in this house. We'd bought it in August and my brother and I had worked like mad to get the house ready for occupancy. We installed windows, redid the floors, ran plumbing and electricity (there had been none until now) and put the porch back on the house. By some miracle, we were able to move in on Thanksgiving weekend.

Winter was wonderful; we had very little snow and things were going on swimmingly, as they say. I was commuting to Appalachian State to finish my undergraduate degree, the children were doing well in school, and our farm was growing with chickens, cows, horses, and rabbits. Until March 1993.

A little snowfall was forecasted, so we weren't too worried. We had feed, hay, and plenty of food, so we didn't make a special grocery run. We'd be fine. Until the snow came. And came. And came. Until it was more than three feet deep. Overnight. Classes were canceled and everything was shutting down. We were stuck!

My husband was the only pharmacist in the county and, as luck would have it, he was needed in town. But, there was no way of his getting there. So, the county ambulance came to get him. It got stuck in the snowbank a half mile from the house. They walked in, had a cuppa, and called for help. The fire deparment sent a first response truck. They slid off the road and into the field by the ambulance. Both of the fire fighters walked in, had a cuppa, and called for help. The Department of Transportation came out. They slid next to the fire truck, walked up, had a cuppa, and called for help. By this time it was getting dark, the power was out, and I had six extra men staying the night.

After a dinner of pinto beans and mashed potatoes, they bedded down in the living room and dining room floors, while the rest of us piled in the master bedroom and waited for daylight.

At dawn, we heard a terrible racket. It was the local tow truck barrelling down the road. Tommy stopped in front of the house, honked his horn, and all the men tumbled out with a hot cuppa and ham biscuit, climbed on the wrecker and off they went. A short time later, all the vehicles were out and back on the road. My husband? He was in the wrecker. He may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night!

We spent the next week without power or a grown man. It was just me and the children here on the farm without power. We cooked on the grill, heated with Kero-sun heaters, and played games, worked puzzles, and read. It was the best week of my life.