There's snow memories like my memories

Backing down the luge chute that is our driveway this morning, with snow piled taller than me (I was tempted to say higher than me, but, well, I'm not that high!) in some places, I was reminded that growing up (and still living) on one of the many dirt roads in West Vincent township, I remember when it was cause for the first in the house to see a snowplow come through, because it often took days until it would happen, to yell out “The plow’s here! The plow’s here!”

I remember one storm in particular, back in the mid 60’s, when the drifts were taller than me, and it took 3-4 days before our road was cleared, which was not unusual. Now, when people complain about how inefficient government is, they use as an example that the plows didn’t come to their road within 3-4 hours, not days.

I didn't mind that it took plows that long to come through, for two reasons:

1 - There was no school until the roads were cleared, and

2 - It took me 3-4 days to shovel our driveway, two narrow strips, one for each pair of tires on each side of the car. Man, that was hard work. And I can remember Dad trying 3, 4, 5 times to try to make it up the driveway to the top, and after each failed attempt, backing all the way down and a little farther down our road, to get a better, faster start.