SNOW DAY

After school yesterday the snow began to fall. Slowly at first, then picked up speed around the time when dad left work to come home. By the time he got home the snow was heavy and wet and kept coming down.  Cars were slipping and sliding on our street.  My brothers and I ventured out to the deck after dinner to watch. It was bitter cold and we didn’t last long outside.  When we were back inside, we warmed up with a bowl of ice cream. I whispered, “ssnow day, maybe tomorrow will be a snow day”. All 8 of our eyes got big with expectation and we murmured small prayers to the snow gods.  We went to bed hoping. Hoping.

In 1984 where we lived, the school closings were not listed by ticker tape on the bottom of the tv.  There were no robo calls from the school district. Kids and parents alike hovered around the radio fingers crossed, albeit for different reasons.   Every few minutes the list of school closing was announced. We lived in Westerville, Ohio so our school district was one of the last to be announced. On this morning my brothers and I were up and awake before our parents. We were all gathered in my room around the little clock radio. Finally, the announcer said “The following is a list of school closings:  Clintonville schools, Columbus city schools, Dublin, Gahanna Groveport, Hilliard, Licking County, Olentangy, Pickaway, Pickerington, Westerville city schools…. Worthington city schools” the list kept going but we started cheering and jumping up and down with glee.  We ran into mom and dad’s room chanting “snow day, snow day, snow day”. A whole glorious weekday to ourselves. 

Overnight the snow had continued to fall. The street was covered with snow and ice. The trees were laden with several inches of snow. The cars were covered with snow. Dad would have to dig his car out to get to work because he rarely took a snow day.

A light snow was still coming down. After breakfast the neighborhood kids were gathering outside. Making snow men (yes, they were men in those days), and snow angels. A snowball fight started until one little kid got hit in the face and went home crying. Soon enough all of us realized how cold we were and went home. We made hot chocolate, baked cookies, and had canned tomato soup. After lunch we watched daytime tv but gave up because it was so boring. We did not have cable tv.

Even now we love snow days.  In other places around the country snow days were quite different. My friends reminisce about their experiences as they grew up.  My husband grew up in Hayward, California and he says, “we never had a snow day”. Kids who grew up in the Bay Area of California in 1970’s and 1980’s remember snow on the ground only one time. “Defiantly not enough for a snow day”. My friend from Iowa explained that the school closing reports came in through list at the bottom of the tv. All the kids in the neighborhood built snow forts. There were competitive snowball fights, and some kids even rode their bikes in the snow.  In the afternoon kids gathered with their friends around the television for “Floppy the Puppet” and cartoons.  A friend from Seattle never had that experience, “snow days just were not a thing.” According to a friend who grew up in Cleveland, snow days were predicted at home. “If we couldn’t open the screen door, there was a snow day”.  The radio verified this and then “we had jammie day at least until we couldn’t resist outside calling us kids to come play. There were snow mounds to climb on and igloos to build. Some yards had flooded before the snow then froze to create a perfect ice-skating pond.” Sledding might happen as well if the dads came home early. A Cincinnati native remembers a year when there were no snow days due to a mild winter. But in April one kind principle announced right before the Easter Break, “Ok kids, Friday is our make up snow day since we didn’t have bad weather this year. Have an extra long weekend!”

Kids today on a snow day?  Parents receive a robo call at 5am from the school district announcing the snow day. Mom or dad whispers this info to the sleeping lump they call son or daughter, and depending on the age of said lump, they may not be heard from until lunchtime.

Back in Westerville Ohio in 1984, the day drifted like the snow.  The boys ventured out to find their friends until the snow started up again.  Mom cooked dinner; she was home all day but had been writing in her study for her school papers. For once we left her alone. Eventually dad arrived home late telling us the roads are still a mess. Someone asked, “will we have another snow day tomorrow?” 

Whether we did or did not, a second snow day in a row was never as exciting as the first. Kids got bored and started bickering. And while we all claimed to not like school, going back was an almost welcome relief and not just to our parents.