Sylvia A. Smith/The Journal Gazette
Many homes in older Washington suburbs don't have garages because the weather is typically mild and because land is expensive. Street parking is the norm, and this is what happens when there's a major snowfall. That's Sylvia Smith's Camry under the snow.
Snowballs, WD40 and jigsaws: Washington copes with storm
By Sylvia A. Smith | Washington editor
ALEXANDRIA, Va. – Did you hear about the organized snowball fight? The one that included a legal disclaimer?
Yep, that's how Washington deals with a massive dump of snow. In several locations, including the Mall that's provides a wide open space between the Smithsonian museums) , Washingtonians gathered Sunday for organized snowball fights.
They pelted each other with snowballs and cavorted like kids. But unlike the neighborhood snow fort-snowball fights most of us remember from childhood, these gatherings were orchestrated on Facebook and via Twitter.
One Facebook invitation included this: "DISCLAIMER! We want YOU to be at the biggest, best (and safest!) snowball fight in Dupont Circle's history, but remember – you're engaging in the battle AT YOUR OWN RISK!" About 2,000 people turned out for it.
It's how a Type A city responds to an accumulation of snow the likes of which it hasn't seen in years.
It caused power outages, carbon monoxide deaths, school cancellations, cars in ditches and shoveling-induced heart attacks. And at least one learning moment. After watching me whack the back of the shovel with my fist every time I tried to dislodge a pile of snow from the shovel bowl, my neighbor told me to try WD40 or Pam. Turns out that spraying the shovel makes the heavy, wet snow slide off.
My sister- and brother-in-law and their family who live in Maryland just north of D.C., lost power for 24 hours. They were among the 200,000 residential and business customers who were victims of outages caused by felled power lines. They weren't too miserable, however, because they have a gas fireplace. After playing in the snow all day and digging out their long driveway, they made a stovetop supper and then cuddled with their two kids in front of the gas fire, sleeping with no more discomfort than autumn camping.
Other powerless friends in Maryland employed the get-in-bed-and-stay-there method to keep warm. After two nights of that, though, on Monday morning they turned off their water and drove to their nearby office, where they intended to stay until the electricity was restored to their neighborhood.
Although the snow stopped by late afternoon Saturday, as anyone in the Midwest well knows, the hard work begins after the final flake. Even by Monday morning, things were not right.
The subway system operated only below ground. That means above-ground stations – such as the one I use to commute from Virginia to my downtown office – were closed. Ditto bus lines.
I take a bus to the closest subway station, but Monday was a no-go even if the subway station were operating. The bus company said bus stops were inaccessible and residential streets were too hazardous. They promised to decide by 5 p.m. Monday whether the system would operate on Tuesday.
As for that organized snowball fight, my friend Maureen Groppe, who covers Washington for Gannett's Indiana and Michigan papers, was in the middle of making Chex mix and cinnamon scones when she heard about it. She lives within walking distance of the battlefield – DuPont Circle -- and wanted to go, even if that meant climbing over drifts to get there.
"The snow actually wasn't very good for snowballs, but that wasn't stopping anyway," she said. "A bunch of people were standing in the fountain, throwing and getting thrown at. That was the main fight, but there were equally intense ones all over the park. A few guys climbed the snow-covered trees to toss snow and snowballs from there. A pretty large snowman had been built by the time I got there, but within a few minutes it had been cannibalized for snowballs. A lot of people stood around the edge of the circle, just watching, or pelting snowballs at any vehicle that tried to slip and slide around the circle, including a car with California plates."
I stayed home in Virginia, alternately shoveling the sidewalk and working on a jigsaw puzzle and reading the ads and inserts that usually come with the Sunday paper. The Washington Post was thinking ahead, I guess, because the Friday paper came with all the extra stuff typically delivered on Sunday.
Rep. Mark Souder, R-3rd, and Sen. Evan Bayh, D-Ind., escaped the snow – Souder to Indiana, Bayh with his twin sons to the Super Bowl in Florida. Sen. Richard Lugar, R-Ind., canceled a planned trip to Indiana to give a speech. Instead, he "hunkered down at home like the rest of us," said spokesman Andy Fisher, sometimes dealing with power outages.
When Bayh and his sons get back to Washington – the flight was delayed somewhat as the area's three airports slowly reopened – the kids won't have missed any school.
Schools were closed throughout the region, and parents in my neighborhood were working on childcare plans for the entire week. With six more inches of snow forecast for Tuesday night, moms and dads were speculating that school would be called off for most or all of the week.
But Bayh, Lugar, Souder and the rest of the congressional delegation aren't missing any work. The federal government was closed Monday along with many businesses, the Postal Service and even some shopping malls.
sylviasmith@jg.net