The dire weather warnings for this weekend have reminded me of the worst blizzard I ever endured in my hometown of Grand Forks, North Dakota.
I was a senior in high school and oblivious of what was going on around me—so, a typical teenager. One Friday night, my two best girlfriends and I decided to go to a late movie, completely unaware that a storm was moving in. I was the one with the car, so I picked up Diana first, and then Diane (this was confusing to everyone except us—these two were as different as night and day).
The movie started at 9:30 p.m. so we arrived at the shopping mall, where the theater was, around 9:15 or so. As we arrived at the mall parking lot, there was light snow falling and some wind, but no big deal. It seemed like an average night to us.
I don’t remember what the movie was anymore, but it ended around 11:30 p.m. There were only a few people attending late movies that particular night, which we thought was odd, but didn’t think too much about it.
The surround-sound audio inside the theater had completely masked what was going on outside—howling winds and a massive snowfall that had transformed the landscape in a mere two hours. When we stepped out into the parking lot, we were immediately pelted by horizontal snow stinging our faces. The shock of that cold and wind, coming out of the warm theater, made us forget the movie instantly. We held on to each other and braced ourselves against the wind, making our way toward my car. I could barely see it—it was almost buried in snow. Not only that, the lot was all but deserted. The few of us left in the theater were the only ones still at the mall, and it was clear none of us would be moving our cars. I could force my driver’s side car door open but I couldn’t drive out—I was totally blocked by huge banks of snow.
Me, Diane, and Diana looked at each other and started to panic. What were we going to do?? We were stranded out there, it was close to midnight, everything was closed, it was below freezing outside. We were way too far away to walk home.
Just then a man walked up to us. He introduced himself as the owner of the movie theater. He said, “Listen, my car is snowed in too. I can’t leave either. Let’s all go back inside and think about what to do.” He also called out to a few other people he saw standing by their cars, and told them, “Follow us back inside.”
Thank God for that man. Not only was he acting kindly and taking charge when the rest of us were scared, but the man had keys. Keys to the mall. Keys to safety.
We followed him back inside and he made a plan for us. “Listen, I think it’s best that we just spend the night here in the theater lobby. Snowplows are not going to be operating until the morning, so we’re not getting out of here tonight. It’s just not safe out there.”
Spend the night? Here, in the lobby?!
We looked around. No beds, no blankets or pillows, just hard benches. A few chairs. Nasty carpet. There were maybe 10 of us total, ranging from us three teenagers, two married couples, and some random singles of various ages. At least we had bathrooms.
But we realized our options were limited. We were safe and not out in the freezing temperatures, trying to drive in whiteout conditions. Even if we could get out of the parking lot, we had no idea what the roads were like between the mall and our homes, and at some point I’d be driving alone, after I’d dropped my friends off. The three of us quickly agreed. In fact, none of the adults went back out into the storm either.
The theater manager pointed us to the phone and said, “You should call your parents and let them know what’s happened, and that you won’t be making it home tonight.”
Oh God. Not that. My relationship with my mom was not good. I knew she’d think I was lying—she’d think I was off partying with my girlfriends and making up some story so I could stay out all night long. Getting a call from me at midnight to tell her “I won’t be making it home tonight” was never a great start to a conversation. I knew I was in big trouble.
I let my two friends make their calls first. They had reasonable parents and their calls went well—expressions of surprise, concern, understanding, wishing us a good night. Then it was my turn.
The minute my mom answered and I croaked out “Mom…” I choked up and couldn’t speak anymore. I was terrified of her reaction. I handed the phone to Diana.
As shocked as Diana was, she stepped up for me and talked to my mom, explained the situation. She knew how volatile our relationship was and how my mom could go off at a moment’s notice. To my surprise, I heard my mom say through the receiver, “Well, is she all right? Is she hurt?” Diana responded, “Oh yeah, she’s fine. Just got scared there for a minute, because it’s her car. But we’re all fine. We’ll be home in the morning.”
I was so grateful for a friend at that moment. She deescalated what would have been a confrontation between my mom and me in front of all those strangers, and I didn’t need that embarrassment right then.
The night had more surprises. The theater manager broke into the mall bakery so that we’d have something to eat and drink as we waited out those long overnight hours. He managed to break the lock on its pull-down metal gate so that he could rummage through their leftovers from that day, as well as their walk-in cooler. He kept track of everything he took and told us, “Don’t worry, I’ll reimburse them for all this.” He also opened his own candy displays and told us to help ourselves. As much as you think that might have been a teenager’s dream, we quickly got tired of eating a bunch of candy bars, M&Ms, and sweet rolls. As morning drew near, we were all dreaming of eggs and toast.
The main thing on everyone’s mind, of course, was the raging blizzard outside. The manager had an AM radio going all night long tuned to a weather station, and we were keeping track of the storm. This particular blizzard was turning out to be one for the record books. On the radio they kept reporting the current wind chill factor and it kept dropping as the night wore on. Now that we were safe and warm inside, we were cheering the storm on, clapping every time the wind chill dropped a few more degrees.
It got to an astounding -99-degree wind chill that night. We kept hoping it would reach the -100-degree milestone, but it never did. 99 below was the coldest it got, but I’ll never forget that number as long as I live.
In the morning, we walked out to blinding sunshine, clear blue skies. It’s the way it always is after one of these storms. Like the universe wants to ask, “What? Is there a problem?”
I’ve never seen so much snow in my life. City snowplows were already working, but we had to wait until after noon before they got to our side of town and cleared the roadways. Then someone came by and helped us dig our cars out and jump them so they’d start.
All in all, we were extremely lucky in a situation that could have ended so much worse. That man took care of us and I’ve always been grateful. I hope it didn’t cost him too much.
That blizzard would come to be known as the Super Bowl Blizzard of 1975. It occurred in January, a freak occurrence that they now call a bomb cyclone that moved from the Pacific, across the Rockies, and then across the Midwest and Northeast. At least 70 people died and tens of thousands of livestock froze in the fields because of its unexpected severity. That year our Minnesota Vikings were in Super Bowl IX, set to play the Pittsburg Steelers. The game was played in New Orleans. To add insult to injury, after the Vikings lost, many of the Vikings’ fans were plunged into cold and darkness as the storm knocked out power in the region.
Stay safe out there, everybody!
