One snowy day

On a sunny morning last spring, I drove to exercise class through a shower of snow. Neither the other motorists nor I had any worry about traveling. Traffic moved along while a few feather-like flakes whacked into our windshields. We all knew that within an hour, the sunshine would be bright again (it was), and the snow flakes would vanish (they did).

I enjoyed that morning, but it stirred thoughts of another experience I had with unexpected snow several years ago. Thinking of that other happening brought back memories of the welcome face of my sister Clarice one afternoon when I was not at all happy to see snow.

I was starting home after a visit with my Kentucky family. I knew there was snow in the forecast, but no accumulation was expected, so I thought it would be safe to drive back to Tennessee. But I had traveled barely past Wheeldon when I noticed a few flakes began to come down. Within a few minutes, the snow fall was heavier. I kept going thinking I would be through the flurry in a short time. But as I was entering Science Hill, the snow was increasing still more. Then all at once, it seemed, there was a cloud burst of the heaviest snow I’d ever seen. I slowed down but still kept going, believing surely I would soon drive through the worst part. That didn’t happen. As I was crossing the railroad tracks heading out of Science Hill, I had to slam on my brakes. I had nearly run into the back of a cement truck. I couldn’t see where I was going. I knew I had to get off the road.

I looked for a place to pull over on the right side of the street, but there was no shoulder because of the steep railroad embankment. I took a chance and drove across the road to the front of the old building on the left. When the way was clear, as best I could tell, I headed back into town. I knew there was a parking lot beside the Nazarene Church on Main Street that I remembered passing. That’s where I pulled in to get my bearings and get out of traffic.

The downpour continued. The flakes were huge and fell in mass, just as I saw last spring, but this time there were many more of them. Only a few feet around my car was visible. I waited. After what seemed like a long time, I became worried. What if the snow kept coming all afternoon? What if the roads became impassable? How could I get help? I didn’t know a single person in Science Hill. It would not be safe for any of my family to come and rescue me, so I needed to rescue myself. The best chance seemed to be for me to try to go back west. If the snow was still not quite as thick back the way I had come, maybe I could make it to where it would be safe to drive again. I thought of my sister Clarice. If only I could make it to her house. I had memorized her phone number and began to say it over and over to myself. I think I did call Clarice because she seemed to know I was coming, yet I don’t specifically remember making the call.

I crept back out onto the street, blinking my emergency lights, turning down the hill past the old flour mill, and staying as far on the right side as I dared. I don’t remember meeting another car. I kept driving, hoping, creeping along, and praying out loud.

A lot of details I don’t remember. But somewhere on the way before the terrain changed into the steeper hills, the snow began to let up. Oh joy, oh joy! What a relief when I could at least see the road again. I felt hopeful but still scared. All the time I thought I was just outrunning the blizzard. But as it turned out, the blizzard never did follow me.

It was wonderful to finally reach Clarice’s house and step inside. I mostly remember it felt so warm. I will never forget. Clarice and Aaron both were proud I was there. Clarice was so happy, smiling, opening the door wide. Aaron was getting up off the couch, grinning and saying, “You made it.” It felt wonderful to know they were as happy as I was that I was okay.

As I recall that day, I feel so much gratitude toward both my sister and my brother-in-law. To be with loved ones, safe and warm, meant the world to me. What made the moment most memorable of all was seeing my sister’s jubilant face. I could tell she had been worried about me, and I loved her for that. My dear, wonderful sister.