It’s snowing in New Jersey but for me in central Florida the only snow we see comes from “snow” machines at Disney World when the Magic Kingdom is decked for Christmas. I think of snow…
...I’m 8 years old and it’s January 1951. I was back in school only two weeks from one of the best times of the kid year – Christmas vacation – and that was what it was called, get over it. And now another true hallmark day was coming without the aid of the Weather Channel – not as great as Christmas, but near to it. A snow day! The TV weatherman predicted a light dusting which many times turned into 2 feet of the wet stuff. I had my hopes that the first snow day off from school would be tomorrow. But Mom made me go to bed at the regular time – bad sign because if the snow was certain I would be able to stay up late. At least to nine thirty. And so I was vigilant at my bedroom window waiting and waiting and then – I saw a flake, then another. I yell IT SNOWING! and mom came into my bedroom and said “Go to sleep!” I do because I couldn’t for a white tomorrow. It was going to be a very busy day.
Now this is a strange thing. I loved going to school – but getting a free day off for me and I believe most kids was like having a reprieve from a sentence to Alcatraz. Oh the joy. I awoke bright and early. And WMVB radio litany of closing was heard in our kitchen. I rushed and sat at the table listening for the big to be announced. “Millville schools are closed”, the announcer made it official and I hurried a breakfast of toast and jam – couldn't wait for eggs to fry this AM.
I dressed for a polar expedition in a snowsuit obeying an order from my grandmother. A snow suit – yikes - the winter bane of every kid my age. I wasn’t a little kid anymore but I had to wear it or I’d be sentenced to watching from a window as the other kids on my street had snowball fights. In reality it was only a heavy coat with a hood and matching heavy padded bib pants that always were too tight. And my grandmother made me wear my grandfather’s black rubber galoshes over a pair of his rough and itchy wool hunting socks or “your feet will freeze”, she warned. I felt like an Eskimo in rubber “Frankenstein feet”. They had metal clasps that looked me in their protection from the dreaded elements. You could never get into them fast enough as this was a two hand job of opening, hooking, folding and closing. I was finally ready and out I went into the freezing tundra. (Can’t you imagine the UGG’s generation wearing these rubber boots?)
I was finally outdoors and to the joy of a day off from reading and writing and rith-ma-tic to the world of snowmen and snow forts and getting hit in the face with a “soaped” snow ball – which was illegal in my peer group. But most times not heeded by my cousin (the bully) Bruce who lived to toss one. I started my day by running and sliding down Stratton Avenue on my new Flexible Flyer sled. (I recently saw one for sale on EBay for $750 bucks just like the one I sold mine for $5 bucks at a yard sale). This was a machine very foreign to South Jersey. There are absolutely zero big hills to slide down – but I had to try it anyhow. And I got that over with. This device never did fulfill its purpose as promoted on TV and it would be soon relegated to the garage to become a cobwebbed artifact. But at the time a sled was a must have in my circle of pals. Next came the fashioning of a snowman that ended up not looking much like Frosty - except for my Pop's corn cob pipe. ( Some snows are better for snowman building - this snow I remember was too light and fluffy to make a good one.) I retreated back in only for a quick lunch – hot pea soup, the kind only grandmothers made on snow days, the kind with milk and chunks of potatoes floating in it. I washed it down with a cup of tea that warmed me up. And with red cheeks in full flush of the season I ventured out again to an afternoon of melting fun.
My snow day fades. Oh those indeed were the days when a thing so simple as some frozen rain could make such joy in a kid's heart – but those days are gone now - for years before I moved south I rarely saw kids taking time out from their video games or cell phones to go out in the snow and play. So, I made a silent pledge to myself - If I ever get to see real snow again I am going out and "play" in it or at least take a nice long walk through it even though I no longer have a pair of galoshes!
