Forty years since "The Big Snow"....

Chicagoans my age and older will very likely recall "The Big Snow" of 1967 that hit the city on the morning of January 26th. It holds the record as Chicago's worst snow storm. By noon on the 26th, an alarming eight inches had already come down. By 8:00 the next morning, a whopping twenty three inches had fallen! Gusty winds complicated the situation causing drifts six feet high in places.

Cars were left hopelessly stuck and abandoned. Store shelves were emptied as people came on foot to stock up. At least a dozen babies were born at home. (I wonder how many were conceived!) Workers were stranded, unable to get transportation home. Airports were closed. Expressways were impassable. In short, the city came to a grinding halt. It took four days for Chicago to dig itself out.

The picture below shows the Edens Expressway during the storm, something we're used to seeing with bumper-to-bumper traffic!

In 1967 I was a kid, twelve years old, and to see all the chaos surrounding the storm was more exciting than frightening. That fateful day I did not want to miss my drama class after school, so I trudged the mile to 59th and Kedzie. It took longer, but that only increased my sense of adventure. Class ended early, as most did not make it, as weather worsened. Back I walked, with ice caked around the tops of my boots.

My father had always insisted we carry a dime in our pockets, "in case of emergency", so we could call home for a ride. Even if I wanted a ride, no car could get through. Sidewalks, doorways, parked cars and streets were snowed over. I made my way by walking in trenches left by car tires in the street.

At home, as Mom made pots of steamy hot chocolate, Dad was shoveling out our house and every other house on the street. Men gathered to talk and assess the situation. A neighbor's garage had collapsed, caving in on both family cars. It was a mess.

Another neighbor had her car stranded a block away. A young man had been driving around in his big tow truck, looking for cars to tow. He offered to help this woman get out, but for a price, a BIG price. She refused. He got mad and tried to speed off. Instead his tires were spinning deep ruts in the snow as we all stood and watched. No one gave him the finger, and no one lifted a finger to help him. Maybe he deserved his humiliation. Eventually he got himself out. The next day we all went over and used our muscle to dig and push that woman's car back home. But it did surprise me back then, that someone would try to cash in and exploit the woman's situation. Today it doesn't surprise me. Tough times bring out the worst and the best in people.

As a kid the snow storm was great fun. No school! And there was a wonderland to explore outside. We had forts, snowball fights and snowmen everywhere. Our dog couldn't walk, she'd leap and sink, leap and sink. It never occurred to us that we should stay in and watch TV. Never, no, we had the chance of a lifetime to play in snow taller than we were.

I made a huge igloo in our yard, next to Mom's tomato patch. I never seemed to get cold. Hours would pass and I'd get hungry, or sleepy, but never cold. I remember crawling inside the igloo, feeling downright WARM, wanting to nap right there inside. I also remember polishing the walls with my glove, making the ice smooth, glistening and hard.

By Tuesday, roads were cleared and the city was back up and running. We went back to school. The city lost something like sixty million dollars in revenue in the storm, and sixty people had died. Now forty years later, we still remember "The Big Snow" of 1967. I enjoyed reminiscing with my father, who helped me recall some of the things I've written here.

Anyone else have memories of "The Big Snow"?

(Thanks to my sister, Sue, who sent me an email about The Big Snow, including the pictures I've posted here!)