I was just reminiscing with Mrs. Liberty about the storm of 78. She didn’t recall it, because she was living in SoCal at the time. I was holed up in a basement of my Fraternity house in Kalamazoo, MI with 20 or so brothers. I was lucky enough to have laid in fresh provisions. It was the most awesome three-five days...
It was Rush season that time of the Semester, and the storm rolled in as an unexceptional party was breaking up one Wednesday night. The Sorority sisters were leaving and giant flakes were coming down. While the National Weather Service was predicting a foot of snow (that’s a lot for there), a private outfit said 33 inches. We had 36 in the end. The University was closed Thursday and Friday, so our party continued on until Sunday night.
We blew the whole Social budget on kegs from the still-open liquor store (Carted on toboggans) and had to pass the hat again afterwards. I had two part-time jobs at radio stations, and I skied to get there. There were places on the freeway where the snow drifted 25 feet high.
Since then, I grew some sense and moved to AZ. Ain’t nobody got time fo dat. :^)
That is one good thing about snow. It’s cold and you don’t have to worry about the beer getting warm.