In 1978 I had been married for just over a year and decided I'd like to play hostess for both of our families. I was living in a tiny apartment near Tipperary Hill in Syracuse. I was making turkey and all the fixings, his family was bringing their favorite dish and Mom was bringing dessert.
Christmas morning dawned white. Very white. It had snowed all night long and there was at least a foot of snow in the street. But this was Syracuse and 12" was a lot to get all at once but the plows would be around. I put the bird in the oven and tried to make sure that everything was perfect.
The plow drivers had other plans. Many refused to go in on Christmas and with the few trucks that were out our side street simply was not a priority. I don't think that the families could have gotten out where they were either. My husband and I had a very nice meal - alone. Our families did not have the traditional meal that year, having to settle for what ever was in the cupboard along with what they had planned to bring.
In the late afternoon we trudged through thigh high snow and walked the three blocks to the home of friends where we spent several hours playing RISK.
Not the best Christmas ever but certainly one of the more memorable ones. That Christmas still holds the record for Syracuse's snowiest.
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Apple
Winter of 1977 was our last in Niagara Falls before moving to the scorching heat of Arizona. The Blizzard of '77 about did us in. I was 13, and I remember clearly the joys of hearing our schools listed on the radio as being closed. This was the winter where authorities ordered people to stay home unless they were on the rescue teams. We had so many snow days to make up that year that they finally called it a school year on June 27, even though they hadn't made up all the missed days.
I also remember reading in the papers and letters from my aunt that '78 was worse!
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