Blizzard Encounter

In a bitter 1968 blizzard, Sandi was driving her parents’ VW bus on an Illinois two-lane road. Snow was drifting into tall piles because of the sideways wind. She couldn’t see more than a car length in front of her but kept going, hoping her headlights would warn oncoming traffic. It was dangerous to continue in the blizzard, but she had to get to the destination and trusted her instincts and driving skills.

Wind swept the snow across the pavement. The VW’s four cylinders were working hard against the wind on the upgrades. Fierce gales blew across the prairies and froze everything. She understood why the farmers left those stands of tall trees between the fields to break the wind, but the road was unprotected.

Although the vehicle was reliable in winter, the heater barely worked. Sandi wore mittens, yet her fingers were getting stiff from the cold. The heater and defroster barely worked. The windshield was iced over except for a small circle, and inside, she kept rubbing the glass to clear it.

When she came to a safe turn-out, she pulled over and got out, ice scraper ready. Icy wind hit her face like a sandblaster, stinging her eyes and cheeks.

Startled by a blasting horn, a semi appeared, splitting the thick blizzard wall. Jackknifing sideways toward her, Sandi escaped by diving into the snow-filled culvert.

The VW bus flew into the field. Staring downward, the truck driver emitted an ear-splitting whoop of joy as Sandi stood up.