The laughing comes after...
Tales about snowstorms can be scary unless you’re telling them to friends. And they can see you survived. And they’ve got their own stories to tell.
It was at a “get-together” at the little Wangen Prairie church in the valley that I started telling folks about our trek home during the recent snow storm. Paul and I had been sitting in the Cannon Falls library when it started. But it didn’t look too bad. No need to hurry.
By the time we left we unknowingly were in the worst part of the storm. Entering Highway 52 we couldn’t see the cars or trucks except for their headlights. And if these would have been covered with snow we could be in big trouble.
Turning off onto County Road 24 didn’t help much. You couldn’t see the road.
I got out and started walking in front of the car while Paul drove. I would feel for the road through my boots. We knew there were ravines along that road.
It wasn’t until we were home that Paul told me at times I had disappeared into the snow too.
The folks at Wangen Prairie hooted with laughter as they pictured me being a new fangled hood ornament!
And that reminded Carol Schiell of the time she was trying to get to her job in Northfield during an ice storm. It was pay day and she was responsible for getting every ones’ checks to them.
Her husband, Gene, didn’t want her to go but since she insisted, he said she wasn’t heading out without him. And he decided to bring a bucket of ashes from their wood burning stove to provide traction if needed.
Well, it was needed. After getting stuck and pushing the car a couple of times, Gene figured that Carol should drive and he would sit on the hood of the car and throw the ashes ahead of it for better traction.
But Carol was concerned that he might slip off the hood and the headlines in the newspaper would read that she had run over her husband in the storm!
Then Betty Ann Hernke recalled driving near the area affected by the tornado that hit Vasa. Her husband, Alan, was riding along. The roar of the wind and the hail pummeling their tiny P.T. Cruiser was deafening. They had to yell just to hear each other.
Betty Ann pulled off onto a field road and then pointed their little car further down into the ditch while they waited for the winds to die down.
Tales about snowstorms can be scary unless you’re telling them to friends. And they can see you survived. And they’ve got their own stories to tell.
It was at a “get-together” at the little Wangen Prairie church in the valley that I started telling folks about our trek home during the recent snow storm. Paul and I had been sitting in the Cannon Falls library when it started. But it didn’t look too bad. No need to hurry.
By the time we left we unknowingly were in the worst part of the storm. Entering Highway 52 we couldn’t see the cars or trucks except for their headlights. And if these would have been covered with snow we could be in big trouble.
Turning off onto County Road 24 didn’t help much. You couldn’t see the road.
I got out and started walking in front of the car while Paul drove. I would feel for the road through my boots. We knew there were ravines along that road.
It wasn’t until we were home that Paul told me at times I had disappeared into the snow too.
The folks at Wangen Prairie hooted with laughter as they pictured me being a new fangled hood ornament!
And that reminded Carol Schiell of the time she was trying to get to her job in Northfield during an ice storm. It was pay day and she was responsible for getting every ones’ checks to them.
Her husband, Gene, didn’t want her to go but since she insisted, he said she wasn’t heading out without him. And he decided to bring a bucket of ashes from their wood burning stove to provide traction if needed.
Well, it was needed. After getting stuck and pushing the car a couple of times, Gene figured that Carol should drive and he would sit on the hood of the car and throw the ashes ahead of it for better traction.
But Carol was concerned that he might slip off the hood and the headlines in the newspaper would read that she had run over her husband in the storm!
Then Betty Ann Hernke recalled driving near the area affected by the tornado that hit Vasa. Her husband, Alan, was riding along. The roar of the wind and the hail pummeling their tiny P.T. Cruiser was deafening. They had to yell just to hear each other.
Betty Ann pulled off onto a field road and then pointed their little car further down into the ditch while they waited for the winds to die down.
But that’s not the only storm Betty Ann has been in. It seemed like if there was a storm brewing, she was near it! That got us all laughing, although wondering if we should be a little cautious when riding anywhere with Betty Ann!
And this brought the scenario from Audrey McKeag as she recalled the tornado that hit their home near Highways 56 and 19. She had picked up her four grandchildren and was heading into her driveway when she saw a television news helicopter in the air. She knew that meant trouble.
Audrey considered staying in the garage but then hurried them all into the house. This turned out to be fortunate because the garage was totally destroyed.
Inside the house Audrey got everyone down into the basement root cellar where they were safe.
On a previous tornado sighting, Audrey had also taken refuge in the basement.
But then she heard the phone ring upstairs. She hurried back up and picked up the receiver to hear her son Mike warn, “A tornado is headed your way, Mom. Get down in the basement!”
Audrey exclaimed, “That’s where I was before I came upstairs to answer the phone!”
Ahhh yes... it is sweet to be able to share these stories... and smile with friends.
.
And this brought the scenario from Audrey McKeag as she recalled the tornado that hit their home near Highways 56 and 19. She had picked up her four grandchildren and was heading into her driveway when she saw a television news helicopter in the air. She knew that meant trouble.
Audrey considered staying in the garage but then hurried them all into the house. This turned out to be fortunate because the garage was totally destroyed.
Inside the house Audrey got everyone down into the basement root cellar where they were safe.
On a previous tornado sighting, Audrey had also taken refuge in the basement.
But then she heard the phone ring upstairs. She hurried back up and picked up the receiver to hear her son Mike warn, “A tornado is headed your way, Mom. Get down in the basement!”
Audrey exclaimed, “That’s where I was before I came upstairs to answer the phone!”
Ahhh yes... it is sweet to be able to share these stories... and smile with friends.
.
