Snow!!!!

The first big snowstorm of the season is hitting the Philadelphia area, and as with the first one of every season, it always reminds me of my childhood, and how I always hoped and prayed for a major snowstorm during the week so that school would be closed. I remember waking up early in the morning, peeking out the window, anticipating a white landscape of the powdery stuff.

If I saw a decent amount of snow, I would immediately turn on KYW-1060 – our local AM station that would report the school closing numbers religiously. I would sit at the kitchen table, slowly eating my Frosted Flakes, listening to every number pass by, hoping, much like a Bingo contestant, that my school number would be called. The numbers would rattle by, getting closer and closer to that magical number 4-5-0. I can still hear Harry Donahue recite these at an amazing clip.

The sheer disappointment of hearing him skip over our school number would make me miserable for the entire day. “How could they not cancel classes today, there has to be at least 4 inches of snow on the ground,” I would quietly whisper to myself. I would take the Superintendent’s decision personally – like he deliberately wanted to ruin our fun. I remember hoping his car would spin off the road – that’ll show him!

But, on those magical days when our number did come up, instead of going back to sleep (like I would do now), I was full of so much elation, excitement, and all other good feelings, that I couldn’t wait to get outside and play in the winter-wonderland. Usually, I was outside by about 7:30 a.m., playing snow hockey with some neighborhood buddies. Then, we would probably either have a snowball fight or build snow forts. But what day would be complete without going sledding? Our hill of choice was always Monument Hill – it was within walking distance, and had a pretty nice slope. Plus, we usually would meet up with other classmates were just as eager to make the most of this special day.

If we had enough people, sometimes we’d get a football game together … provided that somebody actually brought a football with them. I don’t think we ever made it back home before dinner time. We had endless energy, and we were determined to use it all up before darkness could intervene. Then, I would go home, eat dinner, take a warm shower, and hope against hope that our number would be called again tomorrow.

Ah, to be young again.