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Winter 2005: First Storm
This is not going to be a long entry, because who wants to hear me talk about the weather? Nobody.
Okay, I can't resist saying it - no, I'm going to resist. Self-depreciation can be funny (I hope), but I know I carry it way too far.
Anyway, the weathermen last night (Thursday) were warning of a high-energy winter storm on the way. It was going to hit around 6 AM, and dump a lot of snow on our region over the next eight hours or so.
Teri and I talked about it, talked about the possibility of me not going in to work on Friday. I suggested we wait and see; maybe my company would call a snow day.
No such luck. As we started out from the house, the snow was just starting to come down, thick and fast. Teri was worried, and so was I. She suggested to Sebastian that she might not take him to school, and he immediately burst out sobbing - big fat tears practically burst out of his eyes.
"I want to see my friends!" he sobbed.
Time was tight, but we made it to the train. The ride in was uneventful. When I got out at Ruggles, though, the company shuttle wasn't there. A bunch of fellow employees were standing around, freezing and getting caked in a remarkably thick layer of snow - I'm not kidding, it was half an inch thick at least. After a couple of minutes the shuttle pulled in and we clambered aboard.
The roads were getting bad, so the trip took a slightly longer than usual. When we pulled up to the building, though, the van door wouldn't open. The driver tried and tried, but it was absolutely stuck. It couldn't have been frozen shut; it wasn't that cold. But even though he tried the emergency handle over and over, and another driver came over and helped him pull on the door, it wouldn't budge at all.
So eventually they had us all go out through the driver's-side door. That required sitting behind the wheel, a tight fit while fully laden with bags (as most of us were), but eventually we all got out and headed into work.
I hoped that would be the most exciting part of the day. It wasn't.
Teri called me a couple of times at work. She was worried; the snow was getting really bad down there. She'd taken Sebastian to school, but now she was regretting it.
At 2:05 someone stopped by to tell me that sales executives were being sent home. I'm not a sales executive (my job is to support them), and I hadn't been told that I could leave, so that news didn't help me, unfortunately. However, I couldn't help but be aware that if I wasn't told I could leave by 2:30, I'd be out of luck; the commuter train schedule sucks, to put it mildly, and there's nothing between 2:53 and 4:19.
At about 2:45 I was told that I could leave. Too late for me to do anything about it, of course. It sucks having such a long commute. I continued to work.
At 2:55 PM a bell rang over the PA system, and it was announced that the building was closing at 3 PM. Everyone should go home and have a safe trip. Need I say that this pissed me off? I called shuttle services to make sure that the shuttle would still be running at 4 PM, since I was pretty much stranded.
Note: of course, I could have called my parents and stayed with them if the situation was desperate. The problem is that it's generally hard to tell how bad things are, when it comes to winter storms in New England, until you discover that they're already worse than you expected. Also, I really HATE to spend nights away from Teri and Sebastian.
I finished a major project at 3:10. A co-worker who was in the process of leaving verbally bopped me on the head and told me to go to South Station now. I couldn't deny the wisdom of that.
Quick explanation: my train goes between South Station in Boston, and Franklin, MA (a distance of, I don't know, perhaps fifty miles). In the mornings I get off at Ruggles station, which is the first major stop in the city. The terminus, South Station, is two stops further.
In the evening, Ruggles station is the last station of the three, and it's the last one where a lot of people get on. Translation: I never get a seat, because people at South Station and Back Bay fill up all the seats before the train gets to Ruggles. No matter how many times I've written and called, they never, NEVER add more cars. Or even put on any two-level cars. That particular train is screwed, grossly overcrowded, and it seems that it will always be that way.
So anyway, I went out into the parking lot to wait for a shuttle. There were about 25 other workers there, but no shuttles - no shuttles at all. The snow was so thick that it was almost impossible to see, and the wind was so fierce that people's umbrellas were being blown inside-out. My face froze within moments.
As we were all standing around, exchanging witty repartee, I was amazed to hear a loud crack of thunder. We all talked about it; I'd always thought that thunder was impossible in winter, doubly so during snowstorms, but some others had heard otherwise. And in any case, it had definitely been thunder. Later that night on NPR I heard that others in New England had heard it, too, and that while it's rare, it does exist: it's called "thunder snow".
We waited and waited, getting colder and colder. Still no sign of a shuttle. Finally a trolley pulled up at the nearby stop - it's next to the parking lot - and I said "Screw this!" and headed for it. At that point, it seemed a lot safer, and definitely a lot warmer. I might miss the 4:10 from South Station, but there would always be another train. And South Station is heated, so waiting for seventy minutes wouldn't kill me. Heck, they even have a decent food court and ice cream stand - not to mention a book store! Well, kiosk, but still...
Did I say this wouldn't be long? Oops. Okay, let me shorten it: Took trolley in, changed lines, arrived South Station 3:53. Boarded train, called Teri. Ran to get a seat when train came in, because there were a hell of a lot more people who wanted to take it than usual. I was smart; took the window seat of an empty 3-person seat. Why was that smart? Because yes, I was trapped once two other people shared my seat - and I knew they would. I wouldn't have to feel guilty about everyone who would later be standing in the aisle, and I knew damn well that there would be a lot of them that night.
Boy, was I right! By Back Bay, the second outbound stop, the train was not only full - I counted over sixty people standing in the aisle - but the dangerous and usually off-limits spaces between the cars were packed. Not only that, but a lot of people simply couldn't get on at all!
As for Ruggles, forget about it. A lot of people ended up being left on the platform. It's lucky that there weren't any fist fights. Or maybe there were; the train stopped at that station (and most stations that night) for over five minutes.
The snow stopped sometime during the trip, I'm not sure when.
The train pulled in to Franklin about half an hour late. Teri was waiting for me with Sebastian. We drove home to find that the snow plows had created a huge barrier at the end of our driveway. We pulled the car over, put on the hazard lights, and all three of us grabbed shovels. It took about ten minutes to get the snow cleared away.
And then we said "the hell with it" and went to Chelo's for dinner. Home again, we put Sebastian to bed, read to him from Mister Penny until he fell asleep...then Teri went to bed and to sleep, and I stayed up to write this. And now I'm done.
I've got to say, I'm pretty annoyed with whoever it was at my company who decided not to close the place today.
I'll go to sleep soon. But I am trying to decide what I want to write next. Don't know if I'll figure it out tonight, but it's definitely high on my list of priorities. Because there's no question in my mind that I'm happier when I have a story going. It gives me something to think about, something challenging.
Recently the thought occurred to me that if I assume that some (or all) of my stories have no chance for publication, that frees me to write things that I'd really enjoy, but wouldn't normally consider doing - for example, a new story using Poul Anderson and Gordon R. Dickson's Hokas. The idea hit me that it might be interesting to do a story about a serious Hoka - one with no real imagination, or no more imagination than a normal human. Might be amusing, though I'd need to work out an angle.
We'll see.
Okay, I can't resist saying it - no, I'm going to resist. Self-depreciation can be funny (I hope), but I know I carry it way too far.
Anyway, the weathermen last night (Thursday) were warning of a high-energy winter storm on the way. It was going to hit around 6 AM, and dump a lot of snow on our region over the next eight hours or so.
Teri and I talked about it, talked about the possibility of me not going in to work on Friday. I suggested we wait and see; maybe my company would call a snow day.
No such luck. As we started out from the house, the snow was just starting to come down, thick and fast. Teri was worried, and so was I. She suggested to Sebastian that she might not take him to school, and he immediately burst out sobbing - big fat tears practically burst out of his eyes.
"I want to see my friends!" he sobbed.
Time was tight, but we made it to the train. The ride in was uneventful. When I got out at Ruggles, though, the company shuttle wasn't there. A bunch of fellow employees were standing around, freezing and getting caked in a remarkably thick layer of snow - I'm not kidding, it was half an inch thick at least. After a couple of minutes the shuttle pulled in and we clambered aboard.
The roads were getting bad, so the trip took a slightly longer than usual. When we pulled up to the building, though, the van door wouldn't open. The driver tried and tried, but it was absolutely stuck. It couldn't have been frozen shut; it wasn't that cold. But even though he tried the emergency handle over and over, and another driver came over and helped him pull on the door, it wouldn't budge at all.
So eventually they had us all go out through the driver's-side door. That required sitting behind the wheel, a tight fit while fully laden with bags (as most of us were), but eventually we all got out and headed into work.
I hoped that would be the most exciting part of the day. It wasn't.
Teri called me a couple of times at work. She was worried; the snow was getting really bad down there. She'd taken Sebastian to school, but now she was regretting it.
At 2:05 someone stopped by to tell me that sales executives were being sent home. I'm not a sales executive (my job is to support them), and I hadn't been told that I could leave, so that news didn't help me, unfortunately. However, I couldn't help but be aware that if I wasn't told I could leave by 2:30, I'd be out of luck; the commuter train schedule sucks, to put it mildly, and there's nothing between 2:53 and 4:19.
At about 2:45 I was told that I could leave. Too late for me to do anything about it, of course. It sucks having such a long commute. I continued to work.
At 2:55 PM a bell rang over the PA system, and it was announced that the building was closing at 3 PM. Everyone should go home and have a safe trip. Need I say that this pissed me off? I called shuttle services to make sure that the shuttle would still be running at 4 PM, since I was pretty much stranded.
Note: of course, I could have called my parents and stayed with them if the situation was desperate. The problem is that it's generally hard to tell how bad things are, when it comes to winter storms in New England, until you discover that they're already worse than you expected. Also, I really HATE to spend nights away from Teri and Sebastian.
I finished a major project at 3:10. A co-worker who was in the process of leaving verbally bopped me on the head and told me to go to South Station now. I couldn't deny the wisdom of that.
Quick explanation: my train goes between South Station in Boston, and Franklin, MA (a distance of, I don't know, perhaps fifty miles). In the mornings I get off at Ruggles station, which is the first major stop in the city. The terminus, South Station, is two stops further.
In the evening, Ruggles station is the last station of the three, and it's the last one where a lot of people get on. Translation: I never get a seat, because people at South Station and Back Bay fill up all the seats before the train gets to Ruggles. No matter how many times I've written and called, they never, NEVER add more cars. Or even put on any two-level cars. That particular train is screwed, grossly overcrowded, and it seems that it will always be that way.
So anyway, I went out into the parking lot to wait for a shuttle. There were about 25 other workers there, but no shuttles - no shuttles at all. The snow was so thick that it was almost impossible to see, and the wind was so fierce that people's umbrellas were being blown inside-out. My face froze within moments.
As we were all standing around, exchanging witty repartee, I was amazed to hear a loud crack of thunder. We all talked about it; I'd always thought that thunder was impossible in winter, doubly so during snowstorms, but some others had heard otherwise. And in any case, it had definitely been thunder. Later that night on NPR I heard that others in New England had heard it, too, and that while it's rare, it does exist: it's called "thunder snow".
We waited and waited, getting colder and colder. Still no sign of a shuttle. Finally a trolley pulled up at the nearby stop - it's next to the parking lot - and I said "Screw this!" and headed for it. At that point, it seemed a lot safer, and definitely a lot warmer. I might miss the 4:10 from South Station, but there would always be another train. And South Station is heated, so waiting for seventy minutes wouldn't kill me. Heck, they even have a decent food court and ice cream stand - not to mention a book store! Well, kiosk, but still...
Did I say this wouldn't be long? Oops. Okay, let me shorten it: Took trolley in, changed lines, arrived South Station 3:53. Boarded train, called Teri. Ran to get a seat when train came in, because there were a hell of a lot more people who wanted to take it than usual. I was smart; took the window seat of an empty 3-person seat. Why was that smart? Because yes, I was trapped once two other people shared my seat - and I knew they would. I wouldn't have to feel guilty about everyone who would later be standing in the aisle, and I knew damn well that there would be a lot of them that night.
Boy, was I right! By Back Bay, the second outbound stop, the train was not only full - I counted over sixty people standing in the aisle - but the dangerous and usually off-limits spaces between the cars were packed. Not only that, but a lot of people simply couldn't get on at all!
As for Ruggles, forget about it. A lot of people ended up being left on the platform. It's lucky that there weren't any fist fights. Or maybe there were; the train stopped at that station (and most stations that night) for over five minutes.
The snow stopped sometime during the trip, I'm not sure when.
The train pulled in to Franklin about half an hour late. Teri was waiting for me with Sebastian. We drove home to find that the snow plows had created a huge barrier at the end of our driveway. We pulled the car over, put on the hazard lights, and all three of us grabbed shovels. It took about ten minutes to get the snow cleared away.
And then we said "the hell with it" and went to Chelo's for dinner. Home again, we put Sebastian to bed, read to him from Mister Penny until he fell asleep...then Teri went to bed and to sleep, and I stayed up to write this. And now I'm done.
I've got to say, I'm pretty annoyed with whoever it was at my company who decided not to close the place today.
I'll go to sleep soon. But I am trying to decide what I want to write next. Don't know if I'll figure it out tonight, but it's definitely high on my list of priorities. Because there's no question in my mind that I'm happier when I have a story going. It gives me something to think about, something challenging.
Recently the thought occurred to me that if I assume that some (or all) of my stories have no chance for publication, that frees me to write things that I'd really enjoy, but wouldn't normally consider doing - for example, a new story using Poul Anderson and Gordon R. Dickson's Hokas. The idea hit me that it might be interesting to do a story about a serious Hoka - one with no real imagination, or no more imagination than a normal human. Might be amusing, though I'd need to work out an angle.
We'll see.