The Year Storm Larry Unleashed Hell

The fury of Mother Nature Unleashed. The story of "Storm Larry" AKA "The Blizzard of 78"

No one expected nor was anyone prepared for what was about to hit. At best, perhaps a good show would be available along the waterfront and some big waves crashing over the seawalls. It was always an awe inspiring event along the water front and beach watching the fury of Mother Nature when the tides were higher than normal due to heavy storms. The excessive high tide, the giant waves that would shake the ground beneath the feet as they pounded the sea walls creating loud echoing thudded like explosion sounds sending thousands of tons of sea water twenty or thirty feet into the air, followed by the hissing and rumbling sound of a thousand rattle snakes as the ocean waves descended back down pounding the water’s surface and concrete walkway with the force of tropical torrential rainfall.

The forecast predicted two to three inches of snow. Two or three inches were nothing to New Englanders. No one paid attention or took the forecast serious. It was a minor nuisance at best. The frigid temperatures of the seasonal arctic blast that always followed the New Year the first half of January had passed and we were behind us. As far as New Englanders were concerned we were on the back side of winter. Even if it were a major storm that would have been no big deal to us. There were no school cancelations.
It was business as usual, a Monday, the first week of February. There were no emergency preparations by the authorities other than standard readiness and protocol.

There was no rush to the local grocery stores for the basics like bread, eggs, or milk. No runs to the local hardware stores for shovels and salt to prepare the ground surface. No rush to the local hardware stores to stock up on batteries, candles or last minute runs to the local liquor store to stock up on alcohol and beer.

No school closings, no state of emergency declared, or travel advisory or warnings of any kind. Local meteorologists were claiming it would be nothing more than a few inches across the area. A few inches weren’t even enough for sledding and other beloved winter activities even the temperatures had been mild and the local ponds though the surfaces were covered with ice could not be trusted for ice skating. New Englanders were no stranger to cold wet weather and heavy snow storms in the winter months. It was a time for fun, snow forts, snowball fights, building snowmen, and sometimes a chance the kids to make a couple of dollars shoveling a neighbor’s driveway, sidewalk, or stairs.

It was a Monday morning when the deceivingly light snow began to fall and soon began to intensify as the day progressed. Still no biggie, nothing we haven’t experienced before. I stayed home after school that first evening rather than braving the elements and trotting across town to gallivant and hang out with friends who lived on the other side of town.

By Tuesday morning the storm had lulled after dropping about a foot of snow. Everyone thought it was over, no one knew or realized the storm had just stalled and was preparing to unleash hell. What had started as just another New England winter storm that evolved from a Extratropical Cyclone off the South Carolina coast that had merged with a Low pressure system formed from an arctic cold front rolling in from the north into one of the most horrific storms New England has ever faced.

Tuesday Morning School was canceled but adult life went on as usual. Businesses opened, people hustled and bustled to work. During the lull that morning I ventured across town to hang out with friends. The storm ignited again and began to unleash the fury of Mother Nature the likes of which no living New Englander had ever seen before.

Within hours the storm intensified and was dropping snow up to three or four inches per hour which accumulated quickly and soon paralyzed society before the day’s end. Business began closing early by rush hour traffic had stalled to a standstill nothing could move.

People were stranded in their Automobiles on the local highways
I spent Tuesday night bunkered down at a friend’s house and the following day I slogged through the semi-plowed streets home. My parent’s home was just a few blocks up from the ocean set atop a small outcropping. Our house was set out back from the main street; our driveway was just over one hundred feet long, the entrance and side walk was elevated about several feet above the street.
After the long three mile hike home I was awed even more by what beheld my sight as I stood in the street contemplating how to get from the street to the front entrance. Before me, a mountainous wall of snow ten feet tall from the plows that had block the driveway entrance while attempting to clear the street.

After managing to climb up and over the hard icy snow bank and down the other side, I managed crawl another thirty feet of snow the fresh snow managing to make it across the sidewalk to the boarder of the driveway. I was beat, cold wet and tired but only a hundred feet or so away from home now I couldn’t give up. I somehow managed to get atop the long four foot tall chain link fence that followed the driveway out back and tight rope walk along it, which I fell of a number of times but made it home safely.
That storm lasted for over thirty hours. The official record was about thirty-two inches. Had I had a cell phone in those days I could have easily debunked that with images of the snow being level with the chain-link fence. It took us three days to clear the snow and when done was to warn out to go make money shoveling for neighbors.