The End of Snow Days?

In recent years it hasn’t been so true, but not so long ago, Central New Yorkers could count on the first month of the new year bringing lots of snow. On average, Januarys used to produce the most snowfall of the winter months. Take 2010, for example. Our region was experiencing a snowy cycle that began in late December 2009, and though it was felt in many parts of the United States, my hometown of Fulton made national news. On January 6, ABC’s World News Tonight reported on our five feet of snow from a nonstop storm that had begun nine days earlier. For a glimpse of what our city looked like city, check out this YouTube clip ABC News Fulton snowfall footage

Lots of us laughed at the idea of a major TV news program visiting us because of a little—okay, a lot—of snow, but it did generate some memories for Fultonians. Like with every winter storm, our memories often center around how it affects our daily life, and for many of us that means school. John Mercer, who taught 32 years in the Fulton schools, recalls many times when the Central New York weather gave students and teachers a special gift: snow days.

“When I was a kid, we all listened to the radio to see if our school was going to close,” John explained. “In later years, it was watching the TV scroll the names by alphabetical order.” John spent some of his youth in Phoenix, New York, and “it never failed,” he said. “When I turned on the TV they’d be at the Rs or Ss and I’d have to wait for them to start over again.”

Snow days are so important that Central New York school districts build five of them into the calendar each year. Now, school administrators don’t think of that number five as something that needs to be reached each year, but kids (and many teachers) do. Especially after the New Year, in January and February, a snow day is a happy surprise. “After the holidays, the school days can run together, one after another,” John said. “A snow day gives you a chance to feel refreshed or to catch up on things. No extracurricular activities, no homework. It’s a break and a chance to relax with your family.”

We hope, of course, that those snow days show up just when we all need them, but the weather doesn’t always cooperate with our wishes. Like when that January 2010 storm hit. “We were at the end of our Christmas vacation,” John remembered, “and it just kept snowing every day—a lot! We hadn’t even gotten back from the Christmas break and the storm gave us another week off. By that point we were looking forward to going back and getting started, but it was like, ‘Oh, another snow day?’”

Over the years, so much has changed with how weather is predicted and reported; so has how schools operate. I asked John, who’s retired from teaching, if he thinks snow days still have the same impact. “School districts are being a little more proactive when it comes to calling a snow day,” he said. “If there’s a threat of severe weather, schools now often close down ahead of time.”

I see the logic behind that kind of thinking, but it does take the spontaneous fun of a Central New York snowstorm. And modern meteorology isn’t the only thing messing with a surprise snow day. Modern technology is playing a role, too. Schools now have the capability to conduct remote learning, where kids “meet” with their teacher and class from their home computers, to keep education going through even the worst snowstorm. After the COVID pandemic, schools learned that, though it certainly wasn’t ideal, remote learning kept students connected to their studies while stuck at home. It was only logical, I guess, for schools to ask during snowstorms, Should schools call for a remote learning day rather than a snow day?

From what my grandson tells me, teachers are now reminding students to take their school materials (which includes a Chrome tablet) home every day. If a predicted big storm comes and the plows just can’t keep up with the mounting snow, out come the computers, leaving all the sleds, skis and ice skates sitting idle in garages and basements.

After discussing the shift in snow days with John, I spotted an article in a December 2020 issue of Syracuse’s Post-Standard that addressed this very issue. It seems that some schools had indeed done away with snow days during the pandemic. It is now becoming school policy for parents, students and teachers to have their remote learning tools in place. This sure sounds to me like the end of snow days.

There is, however, a glimmer of hope. The Post-Standard article ended by mentioning that a few Central New York school districts have decided to keep their snow days intact, believing that the tradition might help some children feel some normalcy in an ever-changing world. One school superintendent even announced a recent snow day with a taped message sent to every home with school-aged children in her district. Her message was performed in the spirit of “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” Here’s part of what East Syracuse-Minoa School Superintendent Donna DeSiato mused:

“Twas the night before a snowstorm
 and all through the land,
curiosity was peaking,
what might be at hand?

Spartans were wondering,
what would the superintendent do?
What would Dr. DeSiato decide, we need a good clue.
Their homework completed,
they slept in their beds,
while visions of a play day danced in their heads.

When out of the blue,
notification came through:
Thursday’s a snow day — you know what to do!”

Imagine the smiles on the faces of those lucky children, not to mention the teachers, when they heard that message after one of big snowstorms. Doesn’t every Central New York kid deserve that once in a while?

This is what Januarys used to look like in Central New York.

Will We Have a White Christmas?

Because I’ve written a few books about snowstorms, I get to hear lots of opinions about Central New York winters. But whether people love or hate snow, it seems that everyone around here always roots for a white Christmas. The thinking usually goes something like this: “Normally I don’t like snow, and after New Years, I could care less if we get any. But in December, I like a good snowstorm so we can have a white Christmas.”

That’s a nice sentiment, and why wouldn’t it be? When we think of Santa or our decorated tree or shopping in local stores, we want a holiday with snow. All this dreaming of a white Christmas got me wondering what our odds are for a picture perfect snow scene as we get closer to December 25. And while we’re on the subject, have there been storms that gave us more than the white Christmas we hoped for?

For my answer, I turned to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, which covers all things related to weather in the United States. NOAA provides a myriad of probability maps and charts based on our snowstorm history and one national map was just what I was looking for. It shows the odds of a white Christmas, which it defines as there being at least one inch of snow on the ground December 25 morning.

According to the map, Central New York has a 61 to 75 percent range of possibility for its white Christmas wish to come true. Even more optimistic is the Syracuse-based News Channel 9 Storm Team’s analysis, which says “If we look at the snow depth on December 25 from the last 30 years, 22 years had at least 1 inch of snow on the ground! That’s 73 percent of the time.” Want better odds? You’ll have to head a little farther north, to Watertown, where their chances are 80 percent. And if you’ll looking for no chance of failure then be ready to move west, where there’s a 100 percent chance of a white Christmas in Crater Lake, Oregon.

Now that we know our odds, let’s look at the years when Old Man Winter heaped a whole lot of white on our holiday. Like December 25, 2002, when snow began to fall lightly that morning in eastern New York and western New England. By midday, the storm had picked up in strength, leaving folks traveling in some areas dealing with more than two feet of snow. Since most of that snow fell in 12 hours, you can imagine how fast that white Christmas appeared.

December 2010’s holiday storm was another one for the measuring stick. After blasting much of the Southeast U.S. with heavy snow, this blizzard headed our way. New York City ended up with more than 30 inches of snow, and all over upstate New York ,high winds and blowing snow just about froze land travel in its tracks. Thankfully, Santa travels by sleigh or a whole lot of kids would have been disappointed.

Over the years, we’ve put a lot of faith in our weather professionals and it’s rare that the National Weather Service’s prediction is way off base, but they did admit their mistake when Central New York got an unannounced snowstorm Christmas Day, 1974. According to Oswego’s Palladium-Times, the NWS was “embarrassed by the surprise six-inch snowstorm” that hit parts of our region. Sub-zero temperatures wrapped their embarrassment in a chilly package.

But my favorite snowstormy Christmas happened in 1969, when three days of winter weather started on the 25th. Known as the Christmas Storm, this widespread weather event was hit or miss in the Northeast. Depending on where you lived, you either felt the full impact or had no trouble enjoying your holiday traditions. Cazenovia was one of the lucky (or is it unlucky?) towns; their newspaper, The Republican, used the entire front page of its December 31 issue to boldly wish everyone a “Happy, Snowy New Year.”

That Christmas, Central New York snowbound roads caused big problems for folks visiting the area. According to The Republican, “travel was nearly impossible and all roads in southern Onondaga and Madison counties were declared closed.” This left over 200 travelers stranded in Cazenovia. With its few hotels already booked for Christmas, Cazenovia churches and townspeople came to the rescue.

In Oswego County, the Christmas Storm came at the end of a particularly snowy few weeks. In Lacona, near Sandy Creek, Dave Cowan, who’d been measuring snowfalls throughout the 1960s, reported 88 inches for their ’69-’70 winter season—more than seven feet of snow in a little over a month. It was the same for the hamlet of Mallory, in the county’s Central Square School District, where NWS observer William G. Larrabee reported 74.7 inches in December 1969. Larrabee noted that was nearly 33 inches above their normal monthly snowfall total, smashing the previous record set in—you probably guessed it — the Blizzard of ‘66.

None of us want too much snow for our holidays, but while searching for Christmas-related snowstorms, I found a gentle reminder of why a white Christmas is so important. It’s from The Mexico Independent’s column, “Nabby Ann’s Country Kitchen.” I’m not sure who Nabby Ann is or was, but here’s what she wrote in her December 22, 1965 column about the magical combination of snow and Christmas that year:

“[Mexico], the little village, is bathed in the same quaint wonder of years long ago. It is as still and remote as ever it was, when horse-drawn sleighs traveled up and down snow covered roads. You can still hear the music of the harness bells long after the sleigh has passed from sight…All these little miracles are for you and for me, but there is a secret to it all and its very simple. To become a part of it, to see and feel the beauty of the season, it must first be in the eye of the beholder.”

May we be blessed with the sights and sounds of a white Christmas this year!

It just takes a trillion or so of these lake-effect snowflakes to give us a white Christmas. Photo courtesy of Paul Cardinali

The Blizzard of '93: the Storm of the Century?

I’m again turning to this monthly history column to write about significant winter weather events that didn’t make it into my new book, Historic Snowstorms of Central New York. I learned about so many memorable storms and since I hate to waste a good story, I’m sharing them here. This month the focus is on the Blizzard of 1993, which happened recently enough for most readers to recall. Many consider it the biggest storm of their lifetime.

For starters, Syracuse News Channel 9’s Chief Meteorologist Jim Teske, a true weather enthusiast, places the ’93 storm at the top of his Severe Winter Index, which ranks every winter since 1949 in terms of impact and severity. Teske deems the 1992-93 winter as the worst (or best, depending on your outlook), primarily due to the monstrous storm which took place over three days in March.

This was a widespread weather event, dumping upwards of six feet on the eastern U.S. and Canada, resulting in 300 deaths. Here in Central New York, author Mark Monmonier, in his book Lake Effect: Tales of Large Lakes, Arctic Winds, and Recurrent Snows, called it “the granddaddy of all Northeast storms.” Meteorologists blamed it on a typical—if there is such a thing—Nor’easter storm, which sent a powerful jet stream of Arctic air directly into warmer Gulf of Mexico air. To add some extra oomph, the global phenomenon El Nino had flared up that season. All this contributed to the three elements that qualified it as a killer blizzard: substantial snowfall, minus zero degree temperatures and winds clocked up to 100 mph.

Every Central New York community felt the storm’s effect. Syracuse set eight city records, including the most snow in 24 hours: 35.6 inches. Their airport was closed, as was the Thruway. The Post-Standard had a rare “no newspaper published” day. Out of caution, SU deflated its Carrier Dome and Centro pulled their buses off the road during the height of the storm—the only time in their 22-year history.

Yes, blizzard was on the frozen lips of everyone who ventured outside, and it wasn’t long before people got sick of the word. Cazenovia’s newspaper, The Republican, referred to it as “the white hurricane.” In Oswego, frequently a snowstorm “ground zero,” the Palladium-Times’ front page covered the storm, but focused on the unusual ways that it interrupted life: a woman had to retrain her dog to do its business on newspaper because she couldn’t get it outside in deep snow; the city’s movie theatre somehow stayed open, but its late show had a single customer: A stranded Niagara Mohawk serviceman.

Throughout Central New York, the blizzard left behind huge roadblocks for workers. Michael Moody, of Sandy Creek, was employed at Alcan in Oswego. “I drove from home to Alcan and got to the guard shack,” Michael remembered. “He told me he wasn’t letting anyone in or out. I politely told him to call my crew leader and let him know I was here and ready to work. The crew leader told the guard not to let me go back out in the storm.”

Janice Reilly, an Oneida County historian, worked for the New Hartford Post Office. In 1993, her route of 600 homes was on 22 miles of largely rural roads, which often closed due to drifting snow. In her 31 years of post office work, Janice only remembered three times that she could not complete her route. One was during the ’93 blizzard.

“All the carriers were directed to attempt their routes,” Janice explained, “so I started out around 9am. I was scared, but I headed out beyond the village in my LLV.”

Before I could fully appreciate Janice’s story, I needed to find out what an LLV was. That’s Post Office lingo for The Grumman “Long Life Vehicle.” In 1987, Grumman designed its LLV for the US Postal Service, claiming it “the best vehicle for serviceability and overall economical operation.” But, as Janice explained, the Postal Service must not have test driven them in Central New York.

“Our department quickly realized that the LLVs were too light for heavy snow. We installed ‘puzzle weights’ [plastic weights filled with sand] on the back floor to give them better traction. [Plus], the windshield wouldn't thaw well, the wipers often stuck and it was so cold inside.”

Janice had only served eight homes on the most intense day of the ’93 storm when she decided “it wasn’t worth taking my life in my hands. The snow was coming down so hard and fast that visibility was nil. I gave in, turned around and went back to the post office.” But Janice’s troubles weren’t over.

“By the time I could leave, my car had disappeared in the snow-filled parking lot. Luckily, I live only a half-hour walk from work—normally. But the main road south had not been plowed and I trudged in snow up to my knees. It took four hours to get home.”

Staying safe was everyone’s concern during the storm, but that was especially true for Roxanne Alnutt Stuart, who lived on Route 57 South, outside Fulton. Roxanne has MS and is confined to a wheelchair. In ’93, Oswego County home health aides arrived daily to help with her care, but on that stormy Friday morning, Roxanne learned that county aides would not be able to make it. “In fact,” Roxanne remembered, “the county took them off the road until noon Monday. I would be on my own for the weekend.”

Roxanne had many friends who’d always offered help if needed and that’s when she thought of Betty, who didn’t hesitate to stay the weekend. Roxanne described this scene out her window as her friend’s car pulled into the driveway.

“That nasty snowstorm followed her like a curtain of snow. We couldn’t see trees in the front yard or the ramp that was attached to my house.” Roxanne and Betty settled in for a few days of playing board games, cards, watching movies, singing along with The Sound of Music and baking cookies. The friends even had fun taking care of Roxanne’s medical needs. “Getting me in and out of bed and situated for the day was a challenge,” Roxanne recalled, “but we did it with a few good laughs. I was so thankful for her help.”

Isn’t that the best thing to remember about how we survive our major Central New York snowstorms? It’s the friends and neighbors being there for each other, and it almost makes me yearn for a big snowstorm this winter!

Snowstorms in our region can create some major roadblocks, but Central New Yorkers have learned how to overcome them.