Snow Days

Our kids had a snow day from school this past week. It was Lauren and Evan's second snow day ever and Danielle's third. It's not that we don't get much snow here. It's just that being in the city, roads get cleared faster and buses aren't traveling country roads. Back on the farm, we had lots of snow days. I remember listening to the radio and TV just waiting to hear that school was cancelled after a big snowfall. The minute it was announced that Caledonia was closed for the day, the cheering began! Here, we just assume that school will go on as usual. But when it is cancelled, we actually get an automated phone call announcing the closure. Early this past Wednesday morning, I was out shoveling the driveway. We had gotten several inched of snow overnight. Suddenly, Evan came out of the house screaming. I thought something happened to our new puppy. But Evan was hollering that school was cancelled! When I looked down at his feet, I realized he'd been so excited to tell me the news, he had run outside barefoot!

While the snow day this week was exciting for the kids, the one they got last year was one I'll never forget. Or maybe it's just the timing I will never forget. It happened on Leap Day, February 29. That was my mom's birthday. Being a Leap Day baby, she only had a "real" birthday every four years. When she had a real birthday, we always made a big deal out of it. The family would all gather to celebrate. Mother would receive cards and phone calls from what seemed like half the town of Caledonia. When I was in high school, the Caledonia Argus did an article on her having this special birth date. She commented in her interview that her youngest daughter (me) was older than she was. By the time of her death in 2011, she had grand kids that were older than she was. I recently found newspaper notices from 1928 and 1932 telling of birthday parties my grandma threw in honor of my mom's first two "real" birthdays.

The winter of 2011-2012 brought very little snowfall to the Twin Cities. During the last week of February, the forecast was calling for a big snowstorm to hit on Feb 29. I told the kids that Grandma must be up in Heaven trying to convince God to let them have a snow day. Not only was it her first birthday since she died, it was a "real" birthday to boot. As the week went on, the forecast changed a few times. By the time we went to bed on Feb 28, it appeared we would get little or no snow. But while we slept, the snow began to fall. And it began to accumulate. By morning, there were several inches on the ground. Just before 6 a.m. our phone rang. It was an automated message announcing that school was cancelled for the day due to the weather! By about 6:10, our kids were outside playing in the snow. It's humorous to me how early the kids are wide awake on a snow day. On regular school days, they can hardly drag themselves out of bed.



Mother with her 20th birthday cake in 2004



When you lose someone you love, the "firsts" are very difficult. I knew that Mother's first birthday after she was gone would be hard. The fact that it was a "real" birthday would make it harder. But that snowstorm, that snow day, on that Feb.29, made it impossible for me to feel sadness. Of course I still missed her and wished she was still alive. I wished I could call her and wish her a happy birthday and tell her that I loved her. But some how, all I could do that day was think of Mother and smile. Leap Day only comes once every four years. Snow days here generally come even less frequently. Yet those two things happened on the same day. Maybe Mother really did whisper in God's ear and convinced him to give my kids a snow day. That thought stayed with me the entire day and made that "first" a little easier for me to deal with.



Whether or not things like that actually happen in Heaven, I don't know. But I know how much Mother loved her family. I know that God loves us that much too. They'd both knew I would be home alone that entire day if the kids were in school. They both knew me well enough to know I would have had a difficult day as I remembered and missed her. So I can just imagine Mother and God coming up with the idea of a snow day for my kids on that day. That way I wouldn't be alone and the "magic" of the snow day on her birthday would make me smile. The thought of it still makes me smile. And I know that on every Feb. 29, I will re-tell the story of that snow day. Well planned God and Mother....well planned!



Blizzard Babies

How much do you know about your mom's pregnancy with you? How about your birth story? All I know is that I was born on my sister Linda's confirmation day, one day before my due date. I also know that if I was a boy, my name would have been Kelly Dale. In the past, parents didn't share many of those details with their children. My kids have been told far more about my pregnancies and their birth stories than us kids ever were. But, I bet if I asked each of my siblings which of our birth stories they know the most about, they would all answer the same: "Charlie."

In early March of 1959, Mother was due with her sixth child. The winter of 1958-1959 was the snowiest winter on record for Houston County, Minnesota. Almost 92 inches of snow fell that winter, 45 of them in March alone. My mom often told the story of how every weekend in February and March, there seemed to be another snowstorm. At times the snow was so deep that the milk truck could only make it to the neighbors just up the road from us. Then Daddy would put full milk cans onto wooden skis that he had made and skied the milk over the fences to the neighbors to be picked up by the milk truck. The ditches were already drifted full when the snow started on March 5, 1959. Over the next 3 days, 18.5 inches of snow came down. That, accompanied by strong winds, caused blizzard conditions.


The morning of March 6, started out just like any other Saturday morning at our house. My sisters, Linda and Jo, were busy watching cartoons on TV. (They still can't agree as to whether they were watching Mighty Mouse, Pixie and Dixie or Tom and Jerry!) Just a mile further down the road, our neighbors began calling to have a snowplow sent out to clear the road. The reason? The wife, Nadine, had gone into labor. The roads were completely blocked by huge snowdrifts and there was no way Nadine's husband, LaVern, could get her to the hospital. He had gotten his car stuck trying to get out of his driveway. Two snowplows were sent out, but it took a good part of the day to clear the 8 miles to their house. Nadine knew that my mom was also pregnant and due about the same time as she was. So, she called to let my mom know that the snowplows were clearing the road and to see how my mom was doing. Mother said she was fine. Nadine and LaVern offered to take Mother with them, just in case she should go into labor, but Mother said there were no signs of labor. I am willing to bet that she was also thinking that she had four children at home that she needed to care for and that with the weather as it was, she was needed at home. Daddy, though, thought differently. He told her that she needed to go with LaVern and Nadine, just in case. If she didn't, and she went into labor, the snowplows would have to make another trip, as the snow was still falling steadily and the wind was blowing fiercely. I also am betting that Daddy was thinking about my mom's last pregnancy. One and a half years earlier, Mother had given birth to my sister, Cindy, who was stillborn due to a cord accident. I am sure that Daddy knew if something happened to this baby and Mother wasn't at the hospital, she would blame herself. So he insisted that she go to the hospital, even though she wasn't yet in labor. (Luckily, my Grandma Betz lived with my family at that time, so she was able to care for my 4 oldest siblings.)

Several hours later, the snowplows made it past our house, and continued on for the last mile to the neighbors' house. A while later, Uncle Dale climbed up the ladder of the windmill so he could see when the snowplows were on their way back. I have always found it funny that he climbed up there in treacherous conditions so he could let Daddy know when Mother needed to be down at the road to be picked up. As the snowplows headed back toward our farm, LaVern and Nadine followed behind the first snowplow in their car (which the snowplow drivers had helped LaVern dig out). The second snowplow followed behind their car. When they came over the hill just west of our farm, they saw Dale at the top of the windmill. They stopped at our driveway long enough to pick up Mother and headed for the Caledonia Hospital. Daddy stayed at the farm to do chores. The plow drivers warned LaVern to let them escort him all the way to the hospital as the streets in Caledonia hadn't yet been plowed. I have often imagined the scene at the hospital when LaVern arrived with not one, but two very pregnant women. It's probably a good thing it was a small town and everyone knew each other. I can only imagine the rumors that would have started circulating otherwise.

After dropping the women off at the hospital, LaVern left his car there and walked to his parents house where he would be staying. The streets were unplowed so his car couldn't make it through. He had recently had hernia surgery and had a hired man at the farm to do chores for him. That was the only reason he was able to stay in Caledonia. LaVern's parents lived near the Catholic Church, which was a good hike from the Caledonia Hospital on a good day. Considering the snowfall and his recent surgery, it must have been a very tough hike for LaVern. When he arrived at their house, there was so much snow that the front door was inaccessible. He climbed a snowdrift to a second story window and removed the screen so he could get into the house. The following morning, he went out the window and down the drift again and shoveled the doors out.


I am not sure if my mom was checked into the hospital as soon as she arrived or if they had her sit in the waiting room, but she still had no signs of labor. Shortly after midnight, on March 7, 1959, Nadine gave birth to her daughter, Beverly. A few hours later, Mother delivered my brother, Charles Michael (Charles after my Grandpa Charlie and Michael after my mom's favorite uncle, Mike). The phone at the farm rang early that morning letting my dad know that he had a healthy baby boy.  I recall hearing that it was several days before the roads were in good enough condition for Daddy to make it to town to see his new son. The first time that Daddy made it to the hospital for a visit, LaVern joked with him and asked Daddy if he needed him to bring Maxine and the new baby home for him too.

In June of 2011, when my mom was in hospice, Bev's sister-in-law, Sandy, stopped in to visit. Sandy and her husband now live on that farm where Laverne and Nadine lived. She works at the hospital where Mother died. LaVern and Nadine had both already passed away. Sandy told us a very touching story of signs from God that she'd witnessed after LaVern's death. As she was getting ready to leave, she said to Mother, "Maxine, I reckon you are getting ready to go and see Earl again.  When you get there, be sure to say "Hi" to LaVern and Nadine for me." That reduced me to tears. I am sure Mother did tell them "Hi" when she made it to Heaven. And I'm sure that Mother and Daddy and LaVern and Nadine are all sitting up in Heaven now, reminiscing about that snowy day all those years ago when Charlie and Bev were born.