Friday, January 17, 2003
Friday, January 17, 2003 |
| Looking
back with sheer delight at the Great Snowball Fight of 1972
By Rick Ryckeley Get ready, here it comes again. Winter in Georgia is unlike any other time in the South. It makes already bad drivers lose all sense of composure, compassion, and direction. It's a time that one four-letter word strikes terror in the minds of all commuters. Just mentioning the word makes hearts of meteorologists beat faster and kids scream for joy. Our good friends from the Great-White-North laugh at us Southerners and how we react when the S-word is mentioned. Yes, there's a chance for snow in the forecast, and school may be cancelled. Sometime this winter, you're bound to hear from your local news anchors, "Breaking news... a snow flake has just been spotted in North Georgia! We'll have film and live coverage at six from our teams on the ground and in the air. Our ground team will show you cars sliding backward down hills while our team in the sky-copter shows you live shots of snow falling! If it doesn't snow here, we'll go live to some other state and show you snow falling there. Just stay tuned to your all news and severe weather channel for updated information on school closings at 11." Upon hearing the news, children cheer and start to dress for the forthcoming snowball fights. Parents, on the other hand, cringe and dress to make that mad dash to the nearest grocery store. Parents get prepared for snow days somewhat differently than kids. When the S- word is mentioned here in the South, adults do two things. First, they immediately lose any ability they had to drive which, if you've lived here in the South for any length of time, you know is minimal at best. Second, they drive to the nearest grocery store to stock up on milk and bread. Why? Has your mom ever cooked you milk toast? Why not stock up on something that you'll actually need if you're gonna be trapped behind mounds of snow for days on end like pizza and adult beverages. Parents react logically to a forthcoming snow storm. They stock up on fire wood incase the house loses power. They check the car to make sure it's winterized and bring the animals in if the temperature goes below twenty-five degrees. Kids ... well, kids get prepared for snow days somewhat differently than parents. Growing up, anytime the S-word was mentioned in the forecast, the Kid Network went into action in our neighborhood and the phone calls began. Tattle-Tale Tina lived on the south end of town and Blabber-Mouth Betsey on the north end. Between the two of them, not a single snow flake could fall without them calling all the other kids in the network and giving a flake by flake report. January 5, 1972 was the official start of the Kid Network. My brothers remember that date 'cause that's the date of the great snowball fight. I, on the other hand have been reminded of that day each time I look into a mirror. The morning of Jan. 4, the Kid Network began reporting light snow north of town. We started to hope. By nine that night, our prayers had been answered; the Kid Network reported two inches of dry snow on the ground perfect for making snowballs. Oh yeah, and school had been canceled for the coming day! With the good news from the network, us boys started to get ready for the next day's battle. We used the network to divide the neighborhood into two teams of twenty and devise strategies. Twin Brother Mark, Neighbor Thomas, Goofy Steve and I would lead the team from Flamingo Drive. Big Brother James, Older Brother Richard, and Down-the-Street Bully Brad would lead the team from Gloucester Street. The next morning we prepared to do battle in the snow. Team Flamingo's strategy was brilliant; we would simply outlast Team Gloucester. We put on two pairs of underwear, two pairs of blue jeans, two short sleeve shirts, one long shirt, a ski mask, and coat. Then we pulled on two pairs of socks and wrapped our feet in plastic trash bags before pulling on shoes. (The trash bags made our feet waterproof.) We were warm and ready for the battle. We couldn't move too fast, but we were ready. Come to find out so was Team Gloucester they had spies! Seems The Sister was secretly on Team Gloucester and found out about our battle plan. She told Blabber-Mouth Betsey and before the first snowball was thrown, our plan was known by the entire Gloucester Team. The Great Snow Ball Fight of '72 took place by the Old Magnolia tree down from the school. Team Gloucester took the low ground; Team Flamingo took the high. As we ran (walked) down the hill throwing snowballs, Team Gloucester ran up the hill deflecting everyone one of them with the metal trash can lids they all used as shields. We tried to turn and run for cover, but with all our clothes on our run was a mere walk. Many of Team Flamingo perished on that snowball battlefield that day. I came away with four stitches just above my chin. Seems Big Brother James thought it was a good idea to hide a rock inside one of his snowballs. It's true that the sighting of a single snow flake can create mass panic in the streets and bring this town to a screeching halt. Our friends from the Great-White-North don't venture out though. Staying home, watching the snow fall, they laugh at us. They're not afraid of the S word and can traverse quite well with mounds of it all over the streets. You don't see them cleaning out the neighborhood grocery store of milk or bread, and for good reason. They don't like milk toast. No, our friends from the North stay home and don't venture out 'cause they're scared to death of how Southerners drive when there's a single snow flake on the ground. I'll also stay home when it snows, and miss out on all that yummy milk toast. But that's okay, least I'll have sweet tea, and it sure stays cold in a bank of freshly dropped snow. [Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at firemanr@bellsouth.net.] |