Contributed by Bill Brokaw
Our mountainside, small three bedroom home, is located at an altitude of 1,500 feet, and about 10 miles from the center of Anchorage. I've lived in this house for 61 years. Winter arrives early and leaves later than winter in Anchorage. The month of March, and the feeling was prevalent that old man winter had been very good to us, with little cold and way-below normal amounts of snow. In fact, I believe January was the warmest on record, and snowfall was practically none-existent. Temperatures on this near-the-end winter March Saturday were in the comfortable mid-twenties, and the forecast called for some snow flurries, or maybe some light snow.
My wife, Pat, left home at 5:30 pm for her ticket-scanning job at the Sullivan Area, located near downtown Anchorage. While enjoying a fire in our old Franklin stove, I was enjoying March Madness college basketball. When darkness arrived in the late afternoon, I did notice that there was some light snow falling.
About half way though the evening I looked through our living room picture window and couldn't believe my eyes. Whiteness so thick that our neighbors house located across Our Road could hardly be seen. Their very bright illuminating yard light was all most impossible to see, and the limited visibility made it appear that the sky was falling. It was a windless night, and the snow was falling a a rate that I've never seen in the 61 years of Alaska living. Curiosity, as the rate of fall got the better of me, so yardstick measuring was necessary. Looking at the clock, I measured the amount on our deck, and an hour later I measured again. It was unbelievable that the hourly rate of fall was almost 7 inches. When it would stop I did not know, but I did know that if the rate of fall continued it would be impossible for my wife to come up our long driveway, and impossible for her to get home from her Sullivan work. She normally arrived home between ten and ten fifteen.
After watching the snow accumulate so rapidly, I thought maybe a phone call to Pat, warning her about the snow depth would be wise. However, the wise call was not made. As the time got later, and the pace of the snowfall continued, I realized that Pat would be in trouble if she decided to drive home. The shill sound of our phone, and Pat's desperate voice told me she was buried in the deep snow located along the Seward Highway. I said to sit tight and I would be there in our old Nissan truck as soon as possible. What a shock is was when the old truck would not start, I hadn't driven it much because of retirement, and turning the key only produced click, click.
What was I to do to rescue Pat? Another phone call, and Pat said the police had stopped and an radioed a wrecker to pull her out. She paid the $70 and said she would be home shortly. However, I had my doubts as the storm had not abated, and I was sure that there would be further trouble ahead for Pat. While waiting and praying, I decided to at least get some of the snow removed from our driveway. It was almost midnight, and Pat should have definitely been home.
Finally, another phone call from a panicked Pat. She literally screamed that she had turned of O'Malley onto the wrong road, and had buried the car big-time. She was over a mile from our home. Since my truck would not start, I was panic-stricken, but was positive that if she started walking, a good Samaritan would stop and bring her home. Not good thinking, but better than no thinking or no action. She did as I asked and started walking through the storm. Sure enough, almost immediately 2 fellows in a pickup truck stopped and brought her home.
I was outside trying to walk through the 24 inch deep snow when the fellows stopped and told me that they had delivered Pat to our home. With a loud voice, uttering my grateful thanks to the good Samaritans, I trudged through the storm to a warm home and a exhausted wife.
The following morning, with the help of a tow line and another good Samaritan, we were able to free her car that was buried, with only a portion of the roof above the snow.
We were both so thankful for the folks that helped us survive another winter experience.
