On December 13, 1967, for a couple of hours, San Diego was stunned by a Canadian storm that was blown way, way off course.
Local schools, never having heard of a snow day, stayed open. At one Catholic school, the nuns challenged the students to snowball fights. Students at other schools used the minutes between classes to build snowmen and pelt each other with snowballs.
I know a couple of people who still talk about that day. My own kids are 8 and 10 and hadn’t seen snow until we went camping in the mountains last year. Me, I grew up near Chicago and I’ve had enough for a lifetime.
It snowed again 20 years later, but nowhere near as much–just barely noticeable inside the city limits. Same deal almost 20 years after that (last winter–don’t you remember?)
cher3, did you miss the San Diego Dopefest thread?
Yeah, I lived in the DC area until I was 10 so I had seen plenty. It was awe-inspiring to go camping with my Boy Scout troop in the winter and see the entire troop go absolutely nuts over the snow. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that after a couple of years it goes from “having fun snowball fights with your friends” to “getting ice and snow jammed down the back of your shirt by bullies at the bus stop”.
I would be overjoyed to send you southern folks some genuine flurries, direct from the murky clouds flying over Mississauga at this very moment. Just say the word and I’ll send them packing with all due haste.
No need to thank me. Just send a few gusts of that lovely southern wind and a few rays of sunshine this way.
I remember that! I was in kindergarten. I hadn’t thought of that in years. It wasn’t my first time seeing snow, although it was the first time I’d ever seen it fall. The parents used to take us up around Julian once or twice a year to see snow, back when Julian had a population of about 30. Wow. All kinds of Navy-brat memories are flooding back.
Living in Iowa now, I’d almost forgotten the time when snow was a rare and wonderful thing.
I love introducing people to snow. My first year of college, there was a girl from Hawaii and a guy from California, both of whom had never seen snow. The girl from Hawaii took to it immediately, but the first day it snowed, the guy from California stayed in the dorm all day until we made him go outside.
Him: “Do I need boots and, like…I dunno, a scarf?”
Us: “What? NO! We’re just going to the dining hall! It’s only 29 or 30 out there, you don’t even need a hat!”
He peeked out the door like a rodent from a burrow, looking up at the snow and around cautiously, and tucked his head into his jacket. (“It’s getting in my ears!”) Gradually he got used to it and relaxed. Just as someone hit him in the back of the neck with a snowball.
I went to college in northern Ohio, and I well remember taking a friend from Miami sledding for the first time in her life on the only (man-made) hill in town. She spent most of the time headfirst in a snowdrift, while we, her alleged friends, stood at the bottom of the hill laughing our asses off at her. There’s nothing like introducing someone to snow.
In the 18-ish years I lived in Jacksonville, FL, it snowed twice. Both times, it melted away by noon, and both times, auto body shops did a brisk business.
Even tho I grew up in Baltimore and snow wasn’t a novelty, from the time I got my license in 1971 till I went to college in 1976, I’d never had to drive in snow. The winter of '76, I was in Lafayette, Indiana. We had a blizzard - wind chills of -80F and snow drifts measured feet deep. My car was a Datsun B210 which turned out to be fortunate. When I got stuck, a couple of guys were able to literally lift the rear end so I could go on my way again.
My husband’s first snowy winter was when we were in college. He didn’t even own a coat. He had to take advantage of a special grant the school had for clueless sunshine babies to buy proper winter clothes.
One of our other friends, who was from Santa Monica, referred to frozen puddles as “wild ice.” He was also fond of voicing the opinion that “weather isn’t supposed to hurt.”
Ah, The Stupendous San Diego Snow Storm of Sixty-Seven[sup]TM[/sup]! I was in sixth grade and was kept inside the classroom all day, forced to watch the beautiful frosty flakes flutter down. My brother, on the other hand, was in 7th grade (junior high) and his school was closed for the day. How I hate him still.