Snow yes - ice no
As excited as any kid, I woke up Jan. 15 hoping to see the yard buried in white. As it turned out, there was some snow, but not enough to cancel school. Drat.
It's one of the leftover thrills from my public school employment days. When I taught for a couple years right out of college, I used to wish for snow days just as fervently as any student. Of course, my first teaching job was in southeast Kansas and two decades ago it rarely snowed there. The only winter storm that occurred during my tenure was a major ice storm, and it took place during spring break.
After becoming a reporter for a daily, I discovered that no matter how lousy the weather, you went to work. One winter morning in Winfield, I woke up to find the world covered in ice. The mayor was asking everyone to stay home. I called the managing editor and discovered that I was no longer part of the group that included "everyone."
In lieu of rock salt, I threw some salt from my kitchen shaker out the front door so I could have some traction. I gingerly walked to the car, spent half an hour scraping ice, and ventured onto the city streets.
They weren't so bad. But the real challenge came as I drove in front of the newspaper office. Employees weren't supposed to park in front of the building, but I figured we'd be the only idiots out on this day.
As I prepared to exit, I saw a co-worker desperately holding on to a street sign for a dear life. She was unable to move on the ice rink, which had been a sidewalk the day before, and was yelling for help.
So much for this idea, I thought, and decided to take my chances in the lot where I usually parked about a block away. Not surprisingly, I was the only one there that day. It wasn't so bad, because city crews had treated it. I made my way across the lot, across the street, through the backyard of the neighboring school district office, and then, there it was, my nemesis — the alley, an area of blacktop coated in one inch of ice.
Knowing there was no way I'd be able to walk on it, I debated option number one — turning around and going back home, or option number two — crawling. Because I needed a paycheck, two won out.
As I crawled 20 feet to the back door of the newspaper office, my knees stuck to the ice pulling off material from my pants. I heard laughter and looked up to see the clerk of the board and the superintendent's secretary. (That's what you get for writing about school board meetings.)
Although my thoughts were somewhat less congenial at the time, I was happy I could provide entertainment value. After all, these were the only people available to call 911 should I become forever stuck to the pavement. Thankfully, my knees held out and I made it to the door, as the school ladies applauded.
So whenever there's a forecast that calls for either light snow or freezing drizzle. My vote goes for snow.
— KATHY HAGEMAN
