The Blizzard of ‘78, 34 years ago

I am jumping ahead of "the kid from Seaview" in the 40s & 50s, to a 44 year old man from Seaview. I was teaching in Fitchburg, Ma. So, on February 6th, 1978, I was up at 5:00 to leave Seaview about 6:00 for the 90-mile journey.

Monday morning off I went, with a slight falling of snow, arriving at school at 7:55, just in time for class. I kept an eye on the much faster and heavier snow falling. School was called off at noon. I called my wife to get the latest news; she said, “It’s getting bad.” I had a room in Ashburnham, but decided to head back home,

East on Route 2 was plowed, however, slow. It took two hours to get to Route 128 – usually about 30 minutes. Approaching 128, I had to make a decision to continue on Route 2 or 128. Route 128 looked clear, so down I went. As I approached the Mass Pike, I entertained the idea of heading toward Boston.

Unbeknownst to me, at 6pm, Route 128 was at a complete jam in Canton. I did not have a radio in my truck to monitor the storm or traffic. It was stop and go for about a mile, then stop and no more go! I could see the railroad bridge in Westwood.

14 died from carbon dioxide poisoning.

After about an hour, people were walking past me. I stopped one and asked where everyone was going. That person was going to seek refuge in the St. Bartholomew Church, not far away. He told me that Route 128 was jammed solid. Not being a church going person, I opted to stay in my truck.

It was quite cold and the wind wouldn't stop howling! A few more cold souls passed by about 10PM. I was quite aware that exhaust fumes entering the cab could do me in! I cleared the snow away from the exhaust a few times. I had my suitcase with me for my week of extra clothes, and the two sheets I would have used on my bed in Ashburnham. I usually had some leftovers and sandwich making stuff, however I left that back in the shop refrigerator. I cracked open the wing windows and the back slider for a fresh flow of air. I turned the heat to full hot and high fan, wrapped up in the sheets, and dozed off. When the heat got so hot I woke, turned the truck off, and dozed until I was cold. That went on for nearly six hours.

The sound of sirens awoke me at about 6:30 am. Two State Police cruisers were broadcasting that a bus was coming to transport any of us left. This was happening on the cleared northbound lane, now being used for both north and southbound traffic.

About 20 of us abandoned our vehicles, climbed over the guardrails, and boarded the bus. More were picked up as we traveled along. We ended up at the National Guard Armory in Dedham. They let us use their phone to call our loved ones. My wife and two kids were fine as well as Reggie, our dog. They had plenty of wood for heat and cooking.

After I contacted my wife, the guardsmen fed us onion soup for breakfast! There were four of us at the table trying to decide what to do. There was a small restaurant close by that we ended up having a lunch in.

Two of the group were from Quincy, one from Norwood, and me, from Marshfield. The two from Quincy left us. My new-found friend said he would walk home to Norwood and asked if I wanted to come along. I did.

Oh my god, what was I in for? Down Route 1, unplowed! We were walking on a snowmobile trail with just the roofs of cars showing! As we passed Lechmere's, the snow had drifted so high it covered the entire entrance!

We continued until we came to a Chinese restaurant, and turned right up a hill that was barely plowed. It was dusk. When we arrived at my friend’s house, the entrance was completely covered in snow!

Our shovel was a board. It took about 30 minutes to get through the door with quite frozen hands. My friend’s wife made us dinner, we did some chatting, then off to the sofa for a some well-needed sleep. The next morning: a nice breakfast, a thank you, and a farewell.

I hiked south on Route 1. Some plowing had been done to Route 27 -- that was my way home. I got a ride on the running board of a wrecker into Stoughton, another ride in the back of a pickup through Brockton, and finally another ride on the step of a grader into Rockland. I headed east on Route 123 and got a ride to 3A & 123.

As I got to Neal Gate Street in Greenbush, a friend picked me up and dropped me off at my front door! Wednesday, Feb. 8th about 2pm -- two and half days. Not too bad!

My wife had the deck and back steps cleared. Up I went, opened the back door and hollered, “I'm home!” My wife said that she had a feeling I'd be home that afternoon. Hugs and kisses for the wife, the kids, and the dog, in that order.

Now my wife says, “Let’s take a walk down to Fourth Cliff to see the damage!” Oh well, why not? My legs were still in motion from hiking from Norwood.

A week later I obtained a permit to recover my truck. I found it in the northbound lane. The National Guard had cut openings in the guardrails and dragged all of the vehicles into the northbound lane.

The next week was spent freeing the vehicles.

All was well, except all my clothing in the suitcase was gone! I suppose a Guardsman was grateful for the dry clothes!

by Ray Freden Seaview/Marshfield

"Snowflakes are one of nature's most fragile things, but just look what they can do when they stick together." - Vesta M. Kelly

The First Blizzard I Remember (1940)

On St. Valentine’s Day in 1940, as I was approaching five and a half years, a horrific northeast blizzard swept over the northeastern United States. Seaview was left buried in snow.

It was on a Wednesday, and my Dad made it to Greenbush to take the train to work in Boston. The storm was getting worse. At noon his boss – knowing my Dad had a long trip home -- let him off early. The next train to Greenbush wasn't until 4:30. Dad had to wait four hours in the South Station . . . and my Dad didn't like waiting.

Steaming out of Boston.

That early train just made it to Greenbush. Dad had installed tire chains on his car that morning, just in case the storm got worse. Route 3A was plowed, but at Stoddard’s Corner, Summer Street had a huge drift across it. Dad had to continue down 3A until he found a plowed road to Seaview.

Highland Street was plowed, as were Pleasant and Summer Streets. Station Street was not plowed, and the snow bank was too high to crash through. The Seaview Garage was closed for the night and had a space plowed open. Dad left his car and walked home from there, just two doors away.

Our streets were barely plowed.

 I remember the snow was so high that getting in or out of the back door was difficult. Dad was over an hour late, but Mom had supper warm on the kerosene stove. Mom made a favorite dinner for Dad. Valentine’s Day was always special for my folks and so the dinner was eaten in the dining room by candlelight (this night we HAD to use candles -- the electricity was out.

After supper, a white frosted cake with red heart shapes all over it, was dessert. Just after we finished, Dad placed a red heart-shaped box of Fanny Farmer chocolates at Mom's place. Mom had first pick, I had the next -- always a square one. Dad had last pick -- he didn't care which one. Then we had another round.

After supper, Dad lit his lantern, and went to shovel an opening out to Summer Street so he could get his car into the side yard. The wind was howling and stayed that way all night. The drifts were becoming quite high against our house -- up to the windows!

We had a coal furnace for heat and the telephone was working. Our home was lighted by kerosene lamps and candles. Dad had a flashlight that he carried everywhere until the batteries went dead. When the flashlight was useless, he lit up a kerosene lantern.

The next morning, Dad got a telephone call from Bill Pratt, the Police Chief. He was asked if he would help dig out Summer Street between the O'Donnells’ and the Littles’. This is now the entrance to Cedar Acres Road. Dad agreed, got his shovel and walked down Summer Street to the site. There were many men and the older boys from the neighborhood there.

Men and boys shoveling through a drift.

When he arrived home in the late afternoon, he told Mom and me that they only made about ten feet of headway and Dad was beat! There were no plowing machines that could handle these fifteen foot drifts, and many were higher.

The ladies of the neighborhood kept a steady flow of coffee, sandwiches and goodies for the crew.

Also, there was a huge drift at the south end of Station Street and the plow truck couldn't budge it. The north end of Station Street got plowed because Charlie Langille, our neighbor, was a town selectman. All hell would break loose if it didn't get plowed!

On the third day, Saturday, Mom and I took a hike down to the big drift to watch the gang shoveling.

When we arrived, Dad was atop the drift, cutting blocks of snow that would be passed to the next shoveler, and finally into a waiting dump truck to be hauled away. In those days there were no front end loaders. I think there were only two graders in town, one was the town’s and the other was Gino Rugani's. Gino's was assigned to Stoddard's Corner (Main and Summer). The crew got information about the goings-on around town from the truck drivers. It took three days to get through that drift.

I think Dad got to work in Boston on that following Tuesday. He said that along the way to Boston, from Greenbush, that the drifts were as high as the train.

I was to live in that house for another seven years, and every Valentine’s Day dinner, my folks would go over every detail of that 1940 “Valentine’s Day Blizzard,” and a box of Fanny Farmer's candy would always there.

by Ray Freden, 70 years in Marshfield, 60 In Seaview.

Old Time Radio

Today’s "Old Time Radio" was then, my current time radio.

To about 1950, the radio was our connection to the world – as well as the daily Boston Record American tabloid newspaper. TV took over about 1950.

I can remember racing home just before quarter 'til five to listen to my favorite radio broadcasts. This would have been in the early 1940s.

The “quarter 'til five” was hard for me to understand when first learning to tell time. At some point, someone explained to divide the clock into 4 parts, place quarters (25 cent pieces) on a clock face: one on three, two on six, and one on nine. Bingo! One quarter after, two quarters past -- or half past, then the quarter on nine was quarter before or “quarter 'til five!” All thanks to four quarters of a dollar.

I would race home on foot or on my bike, slide the rear wheel on the dirt walkway, run up the back stairs, through the kitchen into the living room, jerk the switch out, then wait for the old Philco radio to come alive. It seemed to take forever!

I think Jack Armstrong, “The all American Boy,” was first to come on, “Quarter 'til Five.” Sponsored by Wheaties, “The Breakfast of Champions.”

There were so many. I will mention a few that I liked.
Captain Midnight
Charlie McCarthy Show
Abbott and Costello
Aldrich Family
Amos and Andy
Baby Snooks
Batman and Robin
The Shadow: “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow Knows. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”

Blondie and Dagwood
Bob Hope Show
Burns and Allen
Jack Benny
Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde
The Inner Sanctum
The Buster Brown Show: “Hi, I'm Buster Brown. I live in a shoe. Whoof! That’s my dog Tyge. Look for him in here too.”

Dick Tracy
Duffy's Tavern
Fibber McGee and Molly
Flash Gordon
Gene Autry
The Green Hornet
The Lone Ranger and Tonto
Lum And Abner
Little Orphan Annie
Our Miss Brooks
Ozzie and Harriet
Sky King and Penny and their Songbird
Super Man And Robin
Hit Parade
You Bet Your Life
Popeye and Olive
Red Skelton
Roy Rogers
Sam Spade
The Thin Man
Tom Mix
Victor Borge (A favorite of my Dad’s)
And the WW2 News.

There are so many more. Some of my list were my Mom and Dad’s favorites, which I was hog-tied to the wing chair and forced to listen to!

The loss of the radio was devastating for a youngster of the 40s. The worst happenings would be a storm when we lost electricity, or I would have to go with Mom to pick up my Dad at the Greenbush railroad station!

Then there were the times that the power tube blew out or grew weak! If this happened during the week, it wasn't so bad because Dad knew which one, took it to Boston with him, and got a replacement. Should this happen on the weekend, off to Chandler’s Radio Store for a replacement. Ya! It cost three times more!

Oh, and there was the “No Radio Tonight” punishment! That was a tough one!

So many shows were dropped in the late ‘40s as television took over. Some shows moved to TV, but it just wasn't the same.

As I became a teenager I had less interest in the radio shows and they became history. TV took over for a while. Then 16, 17, 18 and on . . . there were other interests!

Google ''Old Time Radio'' and listen to some of the shows.

by Ray Freden, 60 years in Seaview, 70 in Marshfield, 7 in Pembroke Maine.
“Maine, the way life should be.”
Down East, "It is that way"