THE BLIZZARD OF 1967

Someone was asking me the other day about what got Jerry and me into a survival mode in the early 80s.   There were, of course, many factors that led us down the path but some did stand out more than others.  Sometimes it doesn’t take a man holding a sign over his head with an arrow pointing in a certain direction to set you straight.

            One significant occurrence in our lives was the Great Chicago Blizzard of 1967.  Twenty-three inches of snow fell upon us within one twenty-four hour period from just one rather significant storm; a record was set.   Just two days before, the temperature was a balmy 65 degrees; in Chicago, in January!  Who would have guessed!   The city stopped.  50,000 vehicles were stranded on streets and expressways.  Public transportation went nowhere.  People died, trying to shovel the heavy snow and many homes and businesses were looted.  Lots of babies were born nine months later.             

Even with the heroic efforts of  Mayor Daley’s organization and the generous volunteering of snow removal equipment from the private sector, it took days before the city was anywhere near recovery.  Grocery stores were empty or locked up because the proprietors couldn’t get there.  Some enterprising individuals took it upon themselves to break into some establishments and take non-food items such as tvs and stereos.  Some of these same enterprising individuals were caught holding the goods when the police were able to just follow their footprints in the snow.  Enterprising does not always mean smart.

            Jerry, being a loving and loyal boyfriend and someone who wanted to get out of his place and have some of my mother’s cooking, trudged through the snow for hours to finally arrive, semi-frozen and red of nose.  The only thing that I feel kept him going was the vision of a plate of spaghetti or maybe a pot roast with steaming hot mashed potatoes, set on the table in front of him.  Anyway, he stayed for dinner and then breakfast the next morning and, in fact, lunch and another dinner later.   He helped my dad shovel a path to the street.  I don’t remember if the shoveling did any good but it was a memorable guy thing to do.  Jerry also found a person who was selling milk and bread from the back of his delivery truck at way over the top prices.  At least he didn’t let the milk spoil!  Did I tell you about the snow people and the fort we built?  Jerry and I had fun.           

I can’t say it wasn’t a fun time to be young and in love; it was. My mother was a nervous wreck thinking that… well you know why.   Was it equally fun for the people stranded at work or public servants who didn’t know when they would be able to go home to their families?  Many people didn’t have more than a day’s worth of basic necessities available.  Homeless shelters were operating at their maximum capacity; hospitals were dealing with increased storm related cases and relying on employees who had been there too long already. 

I really do think that is when we started to talk about the “WHAT IF” stuff.  When things happen in your own backyard you have a tendency to see the consequences more clearly.  I’m a firm believer in the idea of don’t sweat the small stuff but if you don’t keep the small stuff in mind, it can sure get big in a hurry.

 Sharon