The Perfect Snow … Storm

A perfectly snowy tree
outside of school

Today (December 8, 2010) was a perfect example of an “up north” winter. Big, puffy cotton balls of snow were falling from the sky, and if you looked up into it, it’s likely you’d get an eyeful and a mouthful. For local snow lovers like us, it’s what we wait for. I even call our friends downstate with a “snow report,” which, in reality, is a test to see if they’ve gotten as much as we have. So today, winter settled in with a smile full of fluffy whiteness that blanketed us in the most cozy of ways.

Later in the afternoon, as I was driving to pick up my son, Rowan, from school, the snowy roads caused traffic to be at a standstill. I had left my cell phone at home, so I couldn’t do any “checking in.” I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to music, so I found myself daydreaming in the Traverse City gridlock.

I kept remembering a time, in the middle of one snowy night, when I drove my Jeep off the road. On this night, the ice on the road was thick enough to ice skate on – literally (and yes, I have done this before in our lovely state). I was a high-schooler driving around with friends and thinking it might be cool to hot-dog it up a bit. As soon as I hit the gas, the Jeep started sliding. After three full rotations (thankfully on an isolated road) we landed in a cornfield. “No problem,” I thought. “After all, this is a JEEP.” Then I opened the door and stepped out into snow that was well above my waist. “Uh oh. Looks like I need to call DAD.”

My Dad is a tough Swede. Following in the footsteps of my sister and brother – my parents were pretty much immune to any antics that I might dream up. I made the call and heard my Dad’s sleepy hello. I started to explain that I was buried up to my axles in a cornfield, and I’ll never forget his response: “Dig yourself out.” Followed by a “click” of the phone hanging up.

So in today’s winter wonderland, I found myself thinking about “digging myself out,” and how in reality it’s more important to “dig others out.” Living up north for the past 12 years, we’ve had many opportunities to help stranded motorists. I remember one in particular on Rowan’s second birthday. Driving down Front Street, we saw a well-dressed man standing next to a shiny compact car, buried in a snow bank. We were passing right by him, and it was obvious my husband, Doug, was planning to keep on going, when I said a little too loud, “We need to stop and help him!” “We don’t have a tow rope,” Doug said. “Pull over,” I said.

We left Rowan in a warm-and-running car while we got on our hands and knees and dug the visiting businessman out of the snow bank that his compact had landed in. When we got back in, I realized the importance of our actions when Rowan started asking us questions about helping others in his own kid-speak language.

Fast-forward to today. For some reason, the words “dig others out” kept circling in my mind. “Wonder if we’ll have the chance to help someone today?” I thought to myself. 

Just after I picked up Rowan, my question was answered. A man had veered off the road in his Nissan pickup and was buried up to his axles, trying desperately to place cardboard under his tires for traction to get out – on his own. I pulled over. And so did another woman. We realized that we might be able to push him, but we were two dressed-up moms and one guy in a busy four-lane intersection. What we needed was a tow. I looked around and spotted a car with two young men in the front. I tapped on the window and asked, “Could you please help us with a tow?” “Sorry. We’re headed to help someone else out,” they said.

Seriously.

I looked at my Subaru Outback wagon, and back at the man who was busily attaching a towrope, and thought, “What the heck? Let’s give it a try.”

I pulled that man out of the snowbank (with Rowan once again watching over the scene from the back seat of a warm car). I jumped out and gave a whoop! And without hesitating, walked right over to the man (who was obviously shaken from the whole incident) and gave him a big bear hug.

Pulling him out was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I guess that’s the way I feel about most challenging situations. They can seem almost insurmountable – especially when others refuse to help. But just put your head down, tap into your inner strength and surround yourself with people who want to help, and good things happen.

Needless to say, I’ve added a towrope to my Christmas list. Just in case I need to help

dig someone else out.