“It happens every year”
I think it was the winter of ‘70-’71 when my ex and I (and our cat) got stuck in Punxsutawney after the car went off the road in a blizzard and a trucker picked us up. We spent two nights sleeping on the floor of some motel there.
A similar thing happened to my sister and her husband traveling between Syracuse and Cleveland. Three months later, they moved to Florida.
Yikes! I guess I shouldn't complain about being stuck in a hotel with a bed to sleep in.
I was born and raised in Rochester, N.Y. I remember we had a terrible snowstorm sometime in the early 60's. All the main streets were closed. There was so much snow on our street, they had to bring loaders and dump trucks to take the snow away. There was no way you could drive your car. We didn't have a car anyway, but the buses weren't running either, so we couldn't get to work. There was no mail delivery. It lasted about 3 days.
My father worked for the NY Central Railroad, and he had to walk to the station instead of taking the bus. He was always out working on the tracks during snowstorms. He was a track foreman and had a crew. They inspected the tracks, made what repairs they could, and had to clear their section of tracks when snowstorms hit. He'd come home at 4 p.m., eat, go to bed, then get up to go back out at midnight, and work until 4 p.m. the next day. This went on his whole career.