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I know many people don’t care for the snow, but, myself, I am very fond of snow. I have fun memories of the snow and this time of year.
I want to tell a story of a time gone by. A time of great confrontation and daring. A story of crossing Main Street in the middle of winter. I was witness to a well-known business woman, whom I will call Mrs. O, on a perilous expedition over Mount Main in the winter of 1970, or thereabout.
There are many of us who remember the mountain of snow that piled up in the middle of Main Street. It seemed as if it was 10 feet tall, and in truth, you could not see across it at times. There were paths forged across Mount Main for those brave souls who didn’t want to walk around it. Kids sledded on it coming and going from school. There were even some snow tunnels in there from time to time.
One day while walking home from school I watched the top of a head struggling to pop over the peak of Mount Main. It was Mrs. O. She was making her ascent with vigor, looking disgruntled and stressed over the whole thing. You did have to take your chances. Where the street was plowed, it was like a skating rink. Plus, you had to walk a long way around these piles. These piles extended clear out into the intersection. Just as Mrs. O crested Mount Main, and was standing in the glow of success, taking in the view of the calculated path beneath, the snow gave out from under her foot. Down she went. Her dress flew up and exposed her girdle, which made an excellent sled. She flew down the mountain with the grimmest face and her hair flying free. As she was bumping down the hill, she lost her glasses, threw her mail, and ended with a half spin on the courthouse lawn. I would have rated it a good nine out of a possible score of 10. At this point, her dress was under her arms and her girdle shining in the late sun. There was a trail of envelopes to mark this perilous path. I collected her glasses and some of the mail. I helped her up, and I was amazed at the amount of snow that had packed in her clothes on the ride down. She shook out this accumulation from under her dress and removed little snowballs from her hair. She placed her glasses on her face that fogged up immediately, and off she went.
To the post office or bust! She had conquered, and been conquered, by Mount Main.