We like to compare major events, so it’s natural that all over the news there are comparisons of this current blizzard to the storm of ’96 and the storm of ’78. I found this link from NOAA Satellite Information with a new way to measure the impact of storms in the Northeast.
I’m surprised that the storm in ’78 is ranked so low, I remember it as being pretty intense. Then again, I was living in Toledo at the time, 16 years old, and my father had died a few weeks earlier. Since our entire family lived in West Virginia, my father’s flying parner (he was half owner in a small plane) flew my dad’s body down to WV and my mom, brother and I followed on a commercial flight. This took some time to coordinate, and unfortunately we were stranded in Pittsburg in a bad snowstorm for a few days at the airport. This was actually before the blizzard, which – by the time my dad’s funeral was over and we made it back home – hit with full force. I think my mother – who was one of the most sane people I’ve ever known – came closer to madness in those two storms than I’d ever seen her.
My brother and I thought the blizzard was a rare treat – it was a blast, we were home from school for days, we had friends over and spent a lot of time outside climbing the huge piles of snow the plows had left in front of our apartment complex.
After my third date with Gerry, he came to watch my cats while I was traveling in North Carolina (working on a stadium show called, “Lucas Live” to tour through Japan. I built the Wookie…) My cat, Spunky, was pregnant and I didn’t want to leave her alone. One night when I got back to my hotel there was a message, “It’s a boy! It’s a girl! It’s a boy! It’s a girl! It’s a boy!” The clerk said she hoped that it was referring to a pet…
Upon my return home he picked me up at the airport and it was starting to snow as he drove me home. By the time we were in Brooklyn it was apparent that the storm was going to be bad, so he decided to stay over – me, Gerry, and seven cats, He never left.
A few weeks after I’d had a laparascopic procedure to aid in our quest for a baby, Gerry and I found ourselves at home surrounded by 24″ of snow. We lived across from Prospect Park in Brookly, so we went for a long, romatic walk in a practically deserted landscape. We came home and watched cross-country skiers from the roof of our building, fixed ourself a nice dinner with a bottle of wine, and the rest is red-headed history.