Forty years ago today, January 25th, a record-setting blizzard struck Indiana. Well, it struck other areas as well, but I live in Indiana, so that’s how I think of it. And it was memorable to me for more than just the weather. I’ll get to that part in just a bit. For a little information on the actual storm you can go to http://indianapublicmedia.org/news/indiana-spared-years-blizzard-1978-77397/ where there is also a link to more pictures similar to the one above.
My memory, however, begins at work, a few hours before the storm arrived. At that time I lived three blocks from where I worked. As usual I had walked to the office. I didn’t feel up to par that morning, but I felt good enough to work. As the morning progressed I started feeling worse. So when I left for my lunch break I told my supervisor that I was taking the afternoon off as half a sick day. As I walked home I felt weaker and a bit light-headed. I got to the house where I rented the upstairs apartment, climbed the stairs and let myself in, undressed and collapsed into bed. I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the next morning.
When I awoke I found that we had been hit by a blizzard, and that I was snowbound in my apartment. I was still weak, but that didn’t stop me from lighting my first cigarette of the day. I was sitting in my living room, drinking coffee and smoking when I realized that I only had a half a pack of cigarettes to get me through. That didn’t bode well for a person who was currently smoking two and half packs a day. Still, I didn’t worry overmuch. I figured I could go out and buy a carton of cigarettes before I was out of them completely.
I felt really weak and tired, but I bundled up and went downstairs to walk to a mom-and-pop grocery store that was a couple of blocks away. When I tried to go out however, I found a snowdrift about three feet high that was blocking me from opening the door. I was too weak to push it open. Well, that wasn’t good.
I went back inside and once again collapsed on the bed. When I awoke two or three hours later I reached for my cigarettes and counted them. I had four left. I lit one and started thinking. Maybe I had a pack or a partial pack in a jacket pocket in my closet. I hustled to the closet and started searching through my jackets. All I found was a cigar that a jubilant new father had given me quite a while previously. It was better than nothing.
I decided to smoke the cigar before finishing my last few cigarettes, so I removed the It’s a Boy! wrapper, stuck the cigar in my mouth, and gently bit into the end of it. The cigar was evidently older than I had remembered, because it crumbled in my mouth when I bit. Talk about nasty!
I finished off my remaining three cigarettes within a few hours. It was another two days before I was recovered and strong enough to get out of my apartment. When I walked to the store I found that they were completely sold out of tobacco products, not to mention things like milk and Twinkies.
To wrap up this story, tomorrow, January 26th, will be my fortieth anniversary of non-smoking. I’ll see if I can go another ten or twenty years.
By the way, thanks to my friend Anju who graciously let me use the picture she took as the new header photo on Classical Gasbag.