SCHWAB: Finding warmth amongst the cold

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February 20, 2009

Opinion The Journal-Register Fri Feb 20, 2009, 12:28 AM EST

A SCRIBBLING WOMAN’S LIMBO

When I opened the door and walked into my apartment, a 58 degrees stream of heat (the temperature I financially have to keep my thermostat set to) embraced the exposed sections of my face. Moments later — underneath layers of clothes — my body began to sting and shiver; the numbness in my toes and fingertips tingled back to sensitivity.

Thus is my post-shoveling-my-driveway routine.

Since last May, I have been living in Dunkirk on my own. Coming home to an empty and silent apartment is the initial perk that prompted me to live alone my last year of college. However, since the snow began to fall, I’ve discovered big negative aspects to flying solo, especially during winter: Paying the entire heating bill and shoveling the driveway myself.

People have offered to plow for me. But $10 to $20 per plow gets a little pricey for a college student. Therefore, I bite the bullet and spend many days knee-deep in my driveway so I can get to work.

It is difficult not to mimic the weather while living in the snow belt of Western New York — heat is expensive and wading through snow and ice makes already hectic lives more complicated. It is easy to be short with people and unreceptive to social invitations. (Well, maybe not for everyone, but definitely for me in the past few months).

But, two recent experiences made reconsider my increasingly bitter attitude.

It was morning and I had just worked late the previous night. Shoveling the day before, I figured that I would have another few days before it was needed again. But that night, there was a strong wind along with several inches of snowfall — when I came outside the next morning to go to work, I saw that an extra foot of iced snow covered the ground.

So, I shoveled the end of my driveway hoping that I could speed out. However, in my haste to make it to work on time, I backed up directly into a snow pile.

For an hour and a half I attempted to shovel my way out and even used kitty litter (a trick people put behind their tires when they’re stuck on ice). But I was stuck-stuck with no roommates to help me out.

I stood in my driveway — in seven degrees wind — freezing numb and late for work; for the first time ever, I felt helpless and didn’t care that I couldn’t feel my toes, fingertips or nose. I streamed curses for everything I could not change.

Just as I was about to lose faith of thawing the ice beneath my tires or myself, a man and his wife pulled up to my driveway in a truck.

“You need me to pull you out,” the man asked. I looked at their kind (warm) faces and looked at my lopsided car in the heap of snow and thought to myself, “There’s no way my car’s going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to,” I replied curtly, still aggravated at my situation.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” the man replied and hopped out of his car. He slid onto the ground — through the dirt/snow/ice in his clean clothes — to hook a chain to my car, and spent fifteen minutes dragging me out of the snow.

“You have a nice day,” he said with a friendly smile. He wiped off the dirty snow and drove away.

A few days later, I returned home from visiting friends in Rochester. When I arrived to my apartment, there was another two feet of snow in my driveway. I noticed that my neighbor’s driveway was plowed. Not wanting to relive my experience a few days prior, I drove next door (my neighbor was outside shoveling his porch) and asked if I could park my car in his driveway so I could shovel mine.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “How about I just plow it for you — I have to do mine anyway.”

After offering several times to pay him, he denied my money, walked his push snow plow over and spent over 20 minutes clearing a space for my car. Since that day, whenever the snow gets too high or icy, he walks over and plows my driveway just to help me out.

With the frantic, stress-filled lives people live today, it is easy to let the coldness of life (especially during Buffalo’s winter) get to you. It is comforting to know, however, that there is still some warmth out there amongst the snow.

Sarah T. Schwab is a Dunkirk resident and online columnist for The Journal-Register. She welcomes comments and can be reached at saraht.schwab@gmail.com.

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