Heavy snow brings out lightweight in all of us

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Updated: August 4, 2011 4:20PM

So are you all hunkered down? Sitting next to your gas fireplace all wrapped up in your Christmas Snuggie, with hands encased in convertible mittens that let you work in the Cloud at home from your PC?

No doubt you’ve already run out to Super WalMart in the last few days — as soon as you heard the dire warnings — to stock up on the basics needed to survive THE BLIZZARD OF 2011.

Not that your pantry was empty, for heaven sake. But after watching the Pro Bowl on Sunday, you’re all out of Doritos and chicken wings. And even though you had to hit a couple of different hardware stores, you did eventually snag salt crystals, a snow shovel and snowblower so you can eventually dig your way out of THE BLIZZARD OF 2011 — hopefully by tomorrow — and join the human race again.

This storm, commonly described as “A STORM OF HISTORIC PROPORTIONS” — is indeed an impressive one (if the weatherman is right), ranking up there with the winters of ’67, ’79 and ’99. And if you want to go back even farther in the time machine, punch in 1930 with its record-breaking snowfall. Or 1918, where 50 inches fell that season, much of it when a foot of snow would hit in one fell swoop.

Interesting fact: The further you go back in the time machine, the more you realize that this latest mega-storm is really a walk in the park compared to how others affected the area.

I’m not saying this blizzard won’t be creating problems. But for most of us, that translates to inconveniences. We have to hunt down day care. Or battle nasty roads. Some of the unlucky among us will even do a little unexpected off-roading. Others, especially those working as emergency responders, might have to put in overtime. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, considering that post-Christmas credit card bill that just arrived.

Before you go out and buy a T-shirt that declares you “Survived the Blizzard of 2011!!!” consider a true storm of historic proportions, It was — drum roll here, please — THE WINTER OF THE DEEP SNOW.

That’s when, long before Macs and weather radar and 4-wheel drive, Mother Nature dropped about 19 inches in our neck of the woods, starting on Christmas Eve of 1830 and not letting up until well into the New Year. Historians describe it as one of the deepest, coldest and longest-lasting storms since the retreat of the last glacier. And while most of us Chicago-area folks like to grumble and/or brag about the intestinal fortitude it takes to live here, the settlers living in this sparsely populated area back in the 1830s had their hands full trying to survive until spring.

According to Aurora Historical Society Director John Jaros, as well as other historians, the Winter of Deep Snow blanketed most of the state at a depth of 3 feet, with drifts double that height. Storms with high winds continued for 60 days, leaving many snowbound and at the mercy of the relentless elements.

The first to go were the domestic and wild animals. Many perished through starvation and exposure, including thousands of wolves which had to lie around dead and frozen until spring came along and thawed them out enough so the settlers could turn their hides into coats.

Talk about a rough winter.

It has even been said the Winter of the Deep Snow took the last of the buffalo east of the Mississippi River.

The two-footed beasts didn’t fare much better. Back in the day, dad didn’t just jump into his Toyota Camry and tuck behind a snowplow to get to the store. With his cabin buried under the white stuff, during the Winter of the Deep Snow he would have had to pile rocks into the horse-drawn sled and plow through those 6-foot drifts with 50 mph winds whipping in his face. Or he had to hike into the nearby wood for firewood; and try to make it to the fields for the corn and wheat stored there, praying the faint trail he carved out would not be totally covered as he attempted his return home.

Some made it back. Others were not so lucky. And those who survived deserved a medal — literally.

According to an article from The Illinois Intelligencer, written for the state’s Sesquicentennial Celebration back in 1968, the Winter of the Deep Snow became a dating point in pioneer legendry. That date qualified members in the old Settler Association with the special designation of “Snow Bird.”

One pioneer wrote, “I have my Snow Bird badge which was given me at the Old Settlers’ meeting at Sugar Grove. I prize it very highly and would not trade it for a hundred wild turkeys running at large in Oregon.”

Think about all that today as you huddle in your 70-degree office or home, nibbling on BBQ and watching the storm’s fury play out on the Weather Channel. Here’s to survival of the fittest ... and to that nifty new snowblower just waiting to be fired up.