Somewhere around my third year in school I had seen enough weather maps to understand what it looked like when we had a big snowstorm. Then it started, the doodles – on scrap paper, on the back of the homework sheet, in the notebook margins. This was a habit that would stay with me for years before I broke it. Who am I kidding? I still do it sometimes!

As we just observed the 40th anniversary of the snowstorm that still remains the granddaddy of them all for this particular area for its combination of snow, wind, duration, and coastal devastation, I present you with this look back at what things were like from my perspective as a 10 year old weather nut.

After the wild month of January, which you read about on my previous special blog, the area settled into an arctic lull as the weather became very cold but quiet, with no storms of note after the January 26 rain/wind event. I remember the first couple days of February having a fair amount of clouds as I noted in my weather diary, and extreme cold temperatures in the single numbers and teens. This cold continued on, and the few of us that saw Harvey Leonard’s Saturday evening weather forecast on TV were clued into the possibility of a big storm coming. This was coming at a time where meteorologists had very little reliable computer guidance and on top of that a new model had just come online and was actually predicting a large storm. This was ignored by many forecasters thinking it was a glitch of some kind in the new model. Of course I knew nothing of this back then. These facts I would find out years later. What was standing out to me was the slate grey overcast sky in the late afternoon of Sunday February 5 1978. I could just feel something in the air. I remember taking a ride with my father in his Datsun across to the other side of Woburn for some errand he had to do. Back then he would always have a local news station on, WEEI-AM. And a 10-year-old thinks that a news station on the radio is boring. And not only that, they never forecast enough snow. And I made it known to my dad too, after hearing the announcer read a forecast that called for 1 to 2 inches of snow for Monday. “They always say 1-2 inches! Is that the only thing they know how to say?” Oh I felt so powerful, criticizing my dad’s favorite radio station. What a rebel! In my straight ahead staring sneer I think I caught a glimpse of my father smirking. He didn’t mind me mocking his favorite station. He liked their forecast. Dad was not a fan of big snowstorms.

I walked to school and into my 5th grade classroom on the morning of Monday February 6 under the same kind of overcast from the day before, but this time the calm had been replaced by a bitter breeze blowing in from the northeast. It was that wind my brother told me always told you that a snowstorm was coming. At some point during the day one of my classmates said “we’re gonna get killed with snow!” obviously remembering the blockbuster snowstorm we had just 2 1/2 weeks earlier on January 20. I decided to play it cool to him and my reply was “there is no way we can get a storm bigger than that one”. Kiss of death on a forecast, had I actually made one that day. But I remember having this feeling .. a feeling that something big was brewing. By late morning the snowflakes were flying. It didn’t start piling up much the first few hours here in Woburn, and we got to the end of school just fine, but when I left for my short walk home, it is the only time I can remember seeing powdery snow blowing along the ground in curling and swirling lines like you may see along a highway, or observe with find sand blowing across packed down sand on the beach. The wind out of the northeast was steady somewhere around 20-25 MPH and was already gusting higher. It was not long after I got home that day, greeted by the brother that got me interested in weather, and his exclamation that we were in for it, that the snowstorm cranked up, and then it was on…

The next several hours almost seemed like a blur. Night fell, the storm’s intensity grew. I had no idea what would be unfolding along our coastline. I had no clue yet that there were thousands of people stranded on Route 128 and other roads. I was not yet aware of the misfortune that others would suffer because of this storm. When I did learn of it, I learned a lesson early that even though I am awed by big events, there is a human side to it all, and sometimes bad things can happen. This has always kept it in perspective. But on this Monday evening in 1978, I was watching an awesome snowstorm out my window. The wind gusts were shaking the large house. There were moments it was almost scary, but awe overcomes fear often with me when it comes to weather, and that was already well-established when I was nearing the end of my first decade of life. I don’t know what time I went to bed that night, or if I even slept much. The next morning, Tuesday February 7, it started to sink in just what was going on. We still had 12 hours of snow left to fall before it would finally taper off, but we already had a whole lot and the wind-built drifts were massive, larger than any I had seen up to that point. I don’t recall which door my parents, brothers, and I ended up getting out, but I do know that exiting the house was only accomplished with digging our way out. I was probably looking out a window on the other side of the house while one of my older brothers undertook that task. But in a while we were all out there, dressed for winter’s worst. I guess the idea was to start shoveling the driveway because even though the storm was far from done, just getting something started would be better than nothing. At some point late in the afternoon when there was a little lull in the snow, we were standing in the middle of the main road, which was absent of traffic other than an occasional plow, larger front end loader, or police car. There were already people pulling sleds full of groceries by, as there were a few local stores that were able to be open for the duration of the event. I remember them stopping to chat. We didn’t know them and they didn’t know us, but we had something very much in common. This was just a small example of the type of thing that would become common in the days ahead. I don’t remember much about the evening other than snow, wind, snow, wind, more snow, more wind, a lull, then a pick-up. I remember my brother saying that we still would get several more inches before it finally ended and that in order to measure what fell, his plan was to tape 2 yard sticks together and trudge to the local high school under 1/2 mile away in his snow shoes, which were ironically Christmas gifts weeks before…

I woke up on Wednesday February 8 as the sun was emerging from behind a retreating cloud deck in the eastern sky. The snow had ended overnight and the storm had finished its fun with New England and was heading seaward. What was left behind here was something I will never forget. The shoveling head start proved a good move, and though there was still more drifting and much more snow to remove from areas that had been cleaned, the job was lessened somewhat. It still look the better part of that day, and I didn’t have to do it. Ah the joys of being 10 and having 4 older brothers and parents that had no problem getting into the dirty work. I think much of my day was spent attempting to climb the giant snowbanks where any plowing had been done. The side street I live next to had not been plowed yet and would not for a couple days. All of the cars in the neighborhood were unseen other than the radio antenna sticking out of the snow in some driveways. There was a spot in front of my garage that was blown bare by the wind, before any shoveling had been done. Near it sat a drift nearly 8 feet deep. A neighbor’s house had its second floor windows on the south side covered by a snow drift that blew itself even with the slope of the roof. That may have been the most amazing thing I have ever seen with regards to snow and drifting from a storm. The dig-out continued and by day’s end the snow banks in front of the house were high enough that if one climbed to the top, they could see into the 2nd floor windows of the house, or reach up, if one dared, to the wires between utility poles. A short distance up the street my cousin, brother, and friends began work on a snow fort that, when done a day or so later, would have 2 floors, an open 2nd floor, and a closed first floor much like an igloo, with a piece of plywood placed between the 2 floors, and a real window, as there was a small one sitting in either my father’s or uncle’s work room and it was borrowed for the purpose. This fort was reinforced with ice created by spraying and pouring water over the packed snow and allowing it to freeze. Little did they know at the time that this fort would last until sometime in March. One of the most memorable scenes on the day after the storm, with bright sun shining, a driveway cleared to pavement, a snow bank of nearly 20 feet next to it, was the row of lawn and beach chairs my brothers and cousins took out and when they came out dressed as if they were going to the beach to lounge in the chairs. A photo exists of this somewhere, and when I find it, I intend to share it with you all.

The first 4 days after the storm, the 8th, described above, and the 3 days that followed it, were all mainly sunny and tranquil days, not too cold, but just seasonable feeling. It was about as good as we could have it to allow for the massive cleanup needed, but even with the idea conditions, the amount of snow in this area was so incredible (brother’s measurement was over 3 feet) along with the drifting, it was just going to take a really long time. School was canceled “until further notice” or to be evaluated on a day-to-day basis. There was talk about canceling February vacation, but those plans were scrapped since many families had travel plans in place already. As it turned out, February 6 would be the last day of school until exactly 3 weeks later. We returned on Monday February 27. In addition, in a move that would never be done these days, the 180 day rule was waived and we did not have to make up any of the lost days at the end of the year. This was more than exciting to a 10 year old who loved having the 3 weeks off and the promise of a fairly early beginning to the summer ahead! And isn’t it ironic that some of the massive snow piles created in the cleanup from the major storms of the winter would still be sitting, far smaller, but still there, in corners of lots when school did come to an end in June.

I realize that this epic storm was not a joyous occasion for the majority of folks impacted by it, but my memories of it are positive and will last me a lifetime. I’ll never forget that I was one of the lucky ones, even if I didn’t understand it then. There are other events on the list of those that made me want to learn how to forecast weather, but this one was the most influential of them all.