I was born later that spring.
The one I remember the best was the freak April blizzard in 1987. It canceled the slumber party for my 9th birthday.
There was also a great one in 1990. I was visiting my aunt in Myrtle Beach, SC, and they had a white Christmas with 12 inches of snow. She was 9 months pregnant and had a 2.5-year-old kid. And a dachshund. Those Christmas pictures were AWESOME. And all the snow was gone the next day, when it hit 60 degrees.
This is my dad’s story. I will try to write it like he says it:
So I go to work, because I need to get paid, right? One kid and a baby on the way. And the boss is a hard ass. And I am making a ton of money, because people are calling in and I am getting OT to cover for them. Twenty hours into an 8 hour shift and I get the call from your mother. Your Aunt is going to be taking her into the hospital, and I need to get there.
So I tell the hard ass boss I’m out. He wants me to stay, but fuck him. I’m not going to miss this. He says he is gonna fire me. I say good luck with that. Later on we were cool, but at the time I was not in a mood.
So I got in my car. It was a busted up old galaxy. The starter needed to be hit by a hammer to get it going. The gearshift was an old screwdriver. I loved that car. I dig it out, because it was not going anywhere with a foot of snow on it, and I needed to get the hood up.
The bitch took about half an hour to start, but it started. So it gets going. I’m driving five miles an hour and it feels too fast. The hospital is a 10 minute drive in a normal day. This is not a normal day. About twenty minutes in the wipers die.
So I roll down a window and stick my head out. After about twenty minutes of this the car dies.
I popped the hood, but what the hell did I know about cars. Well, I knew it’s dead. Hammering the starter did jack.
So I say fuck it. I pushed the car out of the middle of the road. Or at least I tried to.
Then I walked. Now I know the city. I lived there all my life. And you know what I saw? Nothing. It was white. I was maybe two miles from the hospital. And it was cold. And I had a foot of snow to walk through.
Yeah, I know. 22 year old me was an idiot.
So I walked. And I got there. It took me two hours, and I damn near freezed to death. And when I showed up your aunt asked me what the hell took so long.
I was too cold to swear at her. but it was a close thing.
Anyway, long story short, ten minutes later I met your sister. She cried when I held her because my hands were so damn cold. Your mom dried because babies make women crazy. Hell , I cried too. It was a stressful day. it all worked out for the best.
Except for that Galaxy. A snowplow ate it.
:: applause ::
That’s a great story, HN! 
Since you asked, I was gestating. Presumably in California.
When the snow started falling, my friend (and luckily, fellow dorm resident) and I were holed up in the student center of Wellesley College, working on the student newspaper. We knew there was big snow expected but didn’t think much about it.
When we left around 11 or midnight to walk back to our dorm, it was like being transported into a history book about settlers in Nebraska or explorers in Alaska, stumbling around lost in a blizzard. The snow was up to our thighs and swirling all about us. Luckily we still had some visibility, but the walk back to the dorm was quite difficult.
Then, of course, everything shut down for about 10 days - I believe it was the first time that Harvard ever closed due to snow! My boyfriend, who lived in Brookline, WALKED all the way to Wellesley and spent the week holed up in my dorm room with me.
Each day the dorm cafeteria food got less and less reliant on fresh items, and more deeply into the bowels of a basement stash they must have had on hand for just such a contingency. I remember being quite impressed at how well they managed to feed us, but by the time roads finally opened up, we were eating a lot of canned peaches.
In those days the college had its own bookstore, and delivery of books was disrupted for WEEKS afterward (don’t ask me why, I know that doesn’t make perfect sense, but it was true). Consequently I got my physics textbook a month or so late. My parents came down one weekend for a visit and were furious with me when I said I needed to study while they were there, because I’d only just gotten my textbook.
I also used the storm as a basis for a paper I wrote in my political theory class – I wrote a fable of how a student was holed up in the dorm, went crazy, and took over the dormitory to run it along Hobbesian lines (other students advocating the positions or Rousseau et al). Got an A on the paper, too.
“…the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, short and cold.”
I was a freshman in HS, about 45 miles south of VunderBob.
My dad was working second shift twenty miles west of home. The night of the biggest snowfall, he made it about halfway home before getting stuck. Fortunately, he was stuck just feet from some friends’ farm. They pulled his truck out with a tractor and invited him to stay until the roads were plowed. Given that the woman of the house was an old school farm cook and that two of the farmhands couldn’t get in to help with the milking, it worked out well for my former farm boy dad.
Meanwhile, back at our house, one of my cousins got his car stuck about three blocks from us on the way home from work. He crashed on our couch and my mom dug out warmer clothing (as an invincible 23 year old, he wasn’t dressed for the weather) for him to wear when the roads were open.
The day Dad finally made it home, he got the truck stuck at the end of our ally. It took him and all of us kids about three hours to shovel it out and clear a path to our drive.
Us kids? We made some awesome snow forts, had snowball fights with the neighbor boys and trekked down to the only hill in town for sledding. When it was too cold to even do that, we stayed in with Mom baking cookies, making hot cocoa and playing cards (I remember losing something like $.16 to one of my sisters playing penny ante poker) and board games.
Everybody survived. 
My wife and I were living in Bellingham, Mass and I was working in Downtown Boston. It was my wife’s birthday (February 6th and a Monday, IIRC) and we were planning on going out to dinner that night and had a baby sitter lined up for our 1½ year old. I commuted to work by driving to Franklin, Mass and taking the commuter train into Boston.
Anyway, it started snowing around 9:30 AM and by 11:00 AM my employer (Stone & Webster) decided to close the office and sent everyone home. Our building was adjacent to South Station so getting to the station was no problem but the train schedule was definitely off. I remember getting on a train that was so crowded that all the space between cars was being occupied and someone actually fell off the train at the first stop. I was able to get to Franklin (the end of the line) by around 3:00 PM but my wife had dropped me off that morning so I had no car at the station, though in fairness it probably wouldn’t have made much difference since there was already ~10 inches on the ground. I went to the Franklin Police Station and explained my plight and they told me that there was no way they could get home. I stuck around and as luck would have it one of the Franklin cops lived about two blocks from my house and he had to go home to get some meds since it was about 5:00 PM and he was going to be working late. His police car was equipped with chains, etc and we were actually able to make it to his house by about 6:00. I trudged two blocks to my house with the snow coming down almost horizontally. I remember coming to the front door and ringing the bell and my wife opening the door and just breaking into laughter since I looked just like a snow man since I was covered in snow.
It was still snowing Tuesday morning and Eastern Massuchusetts was declared a disaster (or whatever the term would be) area and from that time forward all roads were closed to vehicle traffic (except emergency and plows) and if you were caught on the road in a vehicle then your vehicle could be confiscated. It stopped snowing around noon on Wednesday and we had about 60" at our house. Our house was at the top of a hill with the land sloping away from the house with the street being about 15 feet below my front door. I remember walking out of my front door after the snow had stopped and walking down toward the street and not being able to see mailbox or anything else. The City plowed our street with a front end loader but since we were at the end of the cul-de-sac everything got piled up in front of our which only added to the problem. We had a friend who had a snow plow on a pickup truck and thus he was allowed out and he told us that he would plow our driveway as soon as he could. He showed up around 3:00 AM and I remember being able to see his pickup at the start of street (uphill from our house) but lost him as he got near our house. He couldn’t plow our driveway so I called to City and they said they would plow our driveway for us since they had dumped all the snow by our house. They plowed it later that night/morning. We were having an extreme diaper shortage so we put our son in a red wagon and we pulled him (the roads were still closed) through the streets to the center of town where there was a store open. The whole town seemed to be downtown and everyone lined up on opposite sides of the main street and had a huge snowball fight.
The ban on driving was finally lifted on Saturday and by then one could make reasonable progress by car to go shopping in Woonsocket.
I will always remember this not as a bad thing but rather as one of those rare experiences where everybody helped one another and neighbors and friends pitched in without reservation to help their fellow man.