December 2013, Israel…..They had forecast the worst snow storm for years. It started to fall in the morning, by lunchtime, there was a significant covering on the ground. By tea time, it had melted slightly and I felt it was OK to pop out for an hour to run an errand.
My daughter, Talia warned me not to go. I remember thinking, this isn’t snow. The winter of 1976 in my home town of Scunthorpe was what I called snow, when it fell so deep we were sent home from school. We had to actually tunnel our way through some of the drifts as we walked through Redbourne Sports Ground to make it back home.
So I headed off safe in the knowledge that everyone was totally over reacting. Really, how bad could it get?!
And an hour later, my question was answered. I had been running my errand for an hour, indoors. As I stepped outside I knew immediately I was in big trouble. The snow was falling so thick and heavy I could hardly see a metre in front of me. It was unbelievable what the last hour had done. Everything was covered in a huge, thick, fluffy blanket of snow.
In total denial, I reached my car and started to clear the snow from the windscreen in order to drive home. I was totally torn. My head was saying ‘not a chance’, my heart saying ‘get back home to the children’. As I pulled away I knew my head was winning the battle. I was skidding everywhere and visibility was almost zero. As I turned a corner, I found myself at the brow of a hill. Ahead of me were several cars that had attempted to ride the ‘white hill of horror’ and had not succeeded. It was at that point I called my mum, who was staying with me at the time and told her that I wasn’t sure what would happen but I was not going to make it home.
I pulled over, put the handbrake on and sat there thinking, shit, what do I do now.
Then I heard a tiny knock on my window. It was a snow covered man. I opened my window and he asked me if I was OK. Smiling, I said, yeah, no problem, I’m fine. I’m so English! Then I said, actually, no, I am not fine. I told him where I was heading and he said that the highway had already been closed and the army was being drafted in to rescue stranded people. What the hell had happened during that hour?
He said that I could come home with him, that he and his wife had also just abandoned their car whilst out shopping. He saw the look on my face, and said, don’t worry, I am a father of four grown up children, you can trust me.
At that moment I was out of options. My gut told me that I could trust him. So I turned off my car, locked it and headed into the blizzard, with a total stranger.
I told myself that I would pop in for a warm drink and head home once the snow had stopped. Yeah, I should be home in time to put the children to bed.
We arrived frozen, cold and covered in snow at Shlomi’s house, (now I knew his name) and was quickly greeted by his wife, Naomi, much to my relief. She gave me dry clothes, socks and slippers. And a warm hot chocolate. I started to relax a little.
Mobile networks had crashed and the electricity supply kept failing. When we were able to see or hear the news, we very quickly realised the severity of the weather conditions. I knew that I wasn’t going anywhere that night. So, after several hours in denial, I finally accepted their offer of a bed for the night. Talk about weird.
I stayed with them for three days.
We lived as one. Even the neighbours joined our party when their food supplies ran out. At one stage we were almost ten people huddled around a kerosene heater wrapped in every woolen piece of clothing and blanket we could find. We passed the time telling stories and sharing jokes, playing games and generally doing what most of us don’t do anymore – away from our phones, we socialised! It was actually fun.
The snow slowed. The roads opened. I found my way home – with a story to tell forever.
Humanity was restored and it was something I will never forget.
So, if you ever doubted snow angels exist, I can tell you that they do – I was lucky enough to meet one!
