I'm pretty sure that the winter of 1977-78 was the snowiest in Cincinnati's history, culminating with the great blizzard of January 26, 1978 (see the previous blog entry). The coldest winter was the year before, the winter of 1976-77. I was living that year in a drafty old apartment on Hollister Street, not far from Vine Street (my rent was $40 a month, and worth every penny!), in the Corryville/Clifton neighborhood. I had a gas space-heater that kept the apartment a toasty 50 degrees on cold days.On the coldest days I tried to stay as many hours as possible at the University of Cincinnati, where I was studying for a masters degree in education. When I came back to my chilly apartment, I often got into a sleeping bed in an attempt to keep warm.
One night, on one of the coldest, snowiest days of that winter, Timmy Jenkins arrived in town, having hitchhiked from Winona, Minnesota. Tim is now a terrific old-timey fiddler and dance caller. Back then he was still mostly playing the harmonica and learning how to play the fiddle. It was always great fun when Tim was in town. Tim had attended Cotter High School in Winona with Kenny Przybylski. Both these guys were legends in our circle of friends.
One day that winter, January 18, 1977, the temperature in Cincinnati hit 25 below zero, the coldest temperature I had ever experienced. It's odd that me, a boy from Northeast Ohio, would experience the coldest weather way down south in Cincinnati, but that is what happened. I went for a walk that day trying to get a feel for that temperature. It was definitely different! I noticed how my exhaled breath resulted in ice on my mustache and beard. And I noticed the effect on my nose, ears, and cheeks. Twenty-five below zero is scary!
In January or February of 1977, the Ohio River froze over around Cincinnati--a very rare circumstance. This led many hundreds of people to walk across the river between Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky--what struck me as a dangerous and foolish trick with all the river currents moving below the river ice. Of course I have done many many such foolish things myself, including walking a mile out onto a frozen Lake Erie--off East 260th in Euclid-- around 1962-63. I did this with my brother Denny and my friend Buster Zylowski and his brother Kenny Z. (more on that adventure some day).
[There was an article, with photograph, from the Cincinnati Enquirer of Sunday, December 31, 2000 entitled "Don't look for river to freeze over soon" that talks about people walking across the frozen Ohio in January/February of 1977. Try the following link for the story: http://www.enquirer.com/editions/2000/12/31/loc_dont_look_for_river.html]
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Just the post I will enjoy contributing to....
In the winter of '76-'77 I lived in Oxford, Ohio in a grand old farmhouse. No indoor plumbing, acres of gorgeous land, oil stove for heat and a "built into the kitchen" wood cook stove I burned whisky barrel bungs to heat the 8-room place with. I had a 9 month old baby and a 5 year-old plus a husband. By January of '76 I knew it was going to be even worse than December. By the end of January my prophecy came true. Yes, it started to snow, out there in the middle of cornfields and undulating hills....me, the 5 year-old (no school, no bus, nothing) and the tiny chubby baby. Their father got stranded in Cincinnati where he worked for 13 days. I was down a long 1/2 mile lane and made the best of it. The snow piled up against the lane entry....no vehicles could get back to me until the oil truck man remembered I might be back there and finally got to the house. He kind of helped out for me....hauled water, chopped barrels, entertained the children....The baby slept in her snowsuit. The 5 year-old couldn't make his way through the snow to play in it. Pretty much a snow hell for me. Luckily I breastfed the baby, my number one concern....My birthday is January 27, and my husband made it back from Cincinnati on that day. He had to WALK! from Route 27 to our farm. At least 7 miles. He came in the door from the dark night frozen. His beard, mustache and long hippie hair were solid frozen from the moisture inside him. His wireless glasses were shields of solid ice and looked like white sunglasses. Under his suede and fur coat he had buttoned in a Sara Lee Cheesecake with strawberries (my favorite) he had bought way back in Cincinnati a day ago. He stood at the door, still frozen and pulled it out from under his coat with a smile. 'Happy Birthday, Honey'. I used this in his eulogy this year. To know the essence of this guy is to hear this story. The baby and 5 year-old also heard the eulogy. How could I imagine 36 years later I'd relive that gorgeous moment of the man, the snow, the children and the cheesecake. I'm rich.
In the winter of '76-'77 I lived in Oxford, Ohio in an 8-room farmhouse with an oil stove, a wood-burning cook stove, no indoor plumbing, views of 300 acres, a chubby 9 month-old, a peppy 5 year-old, an enormous Standard collie dog and all the canned tomatoes from my summer before. When the snows started, a blizzard really, my husband got stuck in Cincinnati, as the roads to Oxford quickly became no longer passable by anything. I stayed in the house for 13 days with no one able to get back the 1/2 mile long lane we lived on. I had plenty to do....go get whiskey barrel staves I used as firewood in the cookstove, pump water that had a well below the freezing line, try to arrange for the 5 year-old to 'potty' indoors....push snow from the wop of the windows and the front and back door. I couldn't get TV reception, so only the radio told me what was happening.
The oil delivery man came back finally after about 8 days and he and his family with him (he couldn't get back his lane either, so was just keeping the family warm driving around on deliveries he could get to) and they all spent the night in the house with us. (My 41 year-old son still recalls every detail of this part of the blizzard excitement...strangers spending the night!).
January 27 is my birthday. I was going on 29...My husband made it back on that night....7 miles walking, as route 27 was the only road passable...side roads weren't cleared even at that point and big trucks would try to get folks where they had to go...but Jim just walked. He came through the door from the snow completely covered in ice. His long hair, his mustache, his beard and glasses were a sheen of frost and ice. He stood at the door, frozen but relieved. He started to unbutton his coat..with very frozen fingers...I helped. From under coat fell a Sara Lee Cheesecake with strawberries, still in its wrapping, but rather bent and squashed. He'd carried it all the way from Cincinnati. "Happy Birthday, Honey" he said with an amazing grin.
I used this story at his eulogy this year. If anyone didn't know Jim well enough, he knew after the story....anyone who would do that is a person who would be at your back no matter what. I don't know anyone like that now...so the 9 month-old and the 5 year-old, now adults, heard the story of their father along with everyone else that sad day. Having the experience to convey that most grand of human gestures, kind love, to the rest of the world makes me want to say "I'm rich!"
Wow, what a story, Bonnie! Thank You!
Post a Comment