Tunnels in the Snow

In 1979, when I was 11 years old, our Maryland suburb was hit with the President's Day Storm. Twenty inches of snow fell on my town. I remember waking up to look outside, only to find our screen door forced shut by three feet of snow. The wind had blown the snow into a heap. When we finally got the door open, I went out to help my neighbor deliver newspapers.

As a child, I was only about five feet tall and 98 pounds. ( I'm not much taller now, but put on some pounds since then.) The roads in my neighborhood had not been plowed yet. My friend and I bravely attempted to deliver her pile of Washington Posts. Like the proverbial mail men who did their job in the rain and snow, we were determined to get papers to our neighbors.

My friend was even smaller than I was. The snow was up to our thighs. We trudged down Lexington Drive (our street) and down the next. I was, and still am, diabetic. In 1979, there was no home blood glucose test. So when I started to feel weak, I assumed my blood sugar was dropping and went home.

Orange juice was my go to treatment back then. I grew to hate it after awhile, but that is not the point of my story.

My coat, gloves, and clothes went into the dryer in our basement. Upstairs I went to make myself a Lipton cream of chicken Cup of Soup. My parents were busy, like most Generation X parents were, so I was on my own. I didn't mind. I loved being alone. To the television I went to watch PBS, followed by the afternoon movie, which was usually horror.

By evening, I was ready to go outside again. My cousin, who lived with me and was two years older, and I bundled up, flipped on the flood light, and went out to play. My cousin had a boy friend over who happened to be magical with a shovel. He dug into the snow, piling it from both sides and creating a long tunnel. We went inside it, and I felt like an Eskimo. Despite the cold, I did not want to go inside. This wonderland of snow, in the darkness no less, was too enticing.

Our backyard was large, with plenty of space to play. We had a cement deck directly in front of the back door. It extended about 10 feet out in a semi circle. After that, the yard extended for about 3,000 feet. The lower part of the yard is where we set up the tunnel. In the middle of the yard stood a huge holly tree. Behind it, it sloped upwards towards St. Bernadette's Church whose steeple loomed over our yard.

The church stayed lit up at night, adding more lighting to our night time play.

Then came the process of thawing out. Again, everything went in the dryer. This time, my fingers were so red with cold I could barely feel them. I put on my flannel nightgown, and looked forward to getting under my electric blanket. Before getting into bed, I looked out my bedroom window on the second floor. I could see the tunnel in the still lit yard. I just stared for awhile, the way I used to look at our Christmas tree with all the lights on, shining in the dark. The snow was so white it didn't need the flood light to be seen.

I stayed looking out my window for the longest time. Not wanting the magic to end.