Relections from the storm

The kindness of strangers - the unexpected, unobligated, undeserved kindness of people who don't even know you - is beautiful.

We had a snowstorm last week. Like you didn't know that. It was a monster storm. It stretched from Albuquerque to Maine. In my home town, the storm set a record for a snow event: over three days, almost 19" of snow. We tied the record of 16.7" over a 24-hour period, from Tuesday afternoon through Wednesday afternoon. This storm did, indeed, live up its hype.

The department of the company for which I work didn't close on Wednesday - we ARE a utility company, after all - but it might as well have. I'm not sure if anyone got there. If they did, I'm not sure why.

This is not to complain about the weather. We're midwesterners. We know that at some point God will sort of flick her finger and let us know that humanity is the master of nothing much. The only thing that we are master of is our reaction to the circumstance and to each other. And, about that "reaction to each other":

On Tuesday night I left work in downtown Davenport at about 4:15. I got to our residence in far northwest Davenport at about 5:30. It's normally about a 20 minute trip. Normally we don't get stuck at the intersection of 9th Street and Division. Normally we don't follow that by getting stuck at Division and Kimberly. On 9th Street we got through by my backing the car up almost a block, getting a running start toward Division, and praying that no one was coming up Division when we got there. Not recommended procedure, I know. At Kimberly and Division we were the recipient of the kindness of strangers. Two fellows got out of a pickup truck behind us and gave us a push that enabled us to get through the drift. They didn't have to do it. They could have gone around us and been on their way. But, they stopped. And helped.

I got to the house at about 5:30. It took until about 6:45 to get from the bottom of our driveway into our parking place. My son-in-law, Joe, showed up with a snowblower. We shoveled and plowed for the hour, in a snowstorm that was dumping an inch or two per hour, in a wind that blew the snow sideways and straight into our faces. (Yes, I am too old for that crap. My back is still advising me of this.) We finally got to the top of the drive - then got stuck in the parking lot.Shortly after a guy drove up in a larger vehicle. He said, "You've been stuck here about an hour?" We hadn't told him that. He then helped us push our car into our parking place. Two more acts of kindness came to us. One was from our neighbor who saw how stuck we were and called a friend who could help. That's how the guy knew we'd been there for an hour. The other was from that friend, who showed up despite having to drive through awful weather to get here. Neither of them had to do what they did. But they did.

Later that night we got to pass some kindness to a stranger. About 9:30 our doorbell rang. Normally at that time of night if our doorbell rings and we're not expecting anyone we're hesitant about answering. I'm not usually all that  hospitable. I'm nice enough away from home (usually!) but at home I may as well have a sign on the front door: "If you're not expected and not invited and not related you're not welcome." We may let you in. I won't pay any attention to you. But on this occasion - in this blizzard - I opened the door. Outside was a young woman - I'm guessing mid-to-late 20s. In the corner of my eye I saw her car in a snowdrift. She only wanted a warm place, away from the elements, to make a call to get help with getting her car out. We gave her the warmest welcome we could. She was distraught. But, for a few minutes we offered warmth and shelter to a stranger who was in some trouble. By the way, how did she determine to ring our doorbell? Our lights were still on.

The next day - Wednesday - I didn't go to work. I didn't even try in the morning. The wind had created a drift about four feet high across the street from us. City plows created a drift about two feet high in front of both exits from our parking lot. Later that day the folks who clear our parking lot had done so. In the process they removed the city's snowdrifts. About 1:00 I tried to go to work. Northwest Boulevard was a sheet of ice. After some sliding and fishtailing at five miles per hour, I turned around - and got stuck again. Again, a stranger pushed me out.

We midwesterners can be, at times, a chilly bunch. Maybe it's not so much that we're chilly, but we place a lot of value on minding our own business. But in a crisis we do come through for each other. At least, in this crisis and in this place and for this family they did. I received help from unexpected quarters, and we passed that on. Our daughter and my wife and I helped neighbors by shoveling more walks than we needed to.

And kudos to the Davenport city crews who, I think, did pretty well considering the severity of the storm that they were digging out from.

Love to hear your reflections, your memeories. . .As always, love ya and thanks for hanging out with me for a few.