Excerpt

Just last week I was reading about large trucks slipping and sliding off main roads and expressways due to the onset of a fast-moving snowstorm that hit areas of New Hampshire and caused havoc. Not exactly a catastrophe, unless you are caught up in the storm and must then manage new driving routes to get around the disabled vehicles. It is very unsettling and dangerous.

It all reminded me of those very bad days back beginning February 5, 1978 when a massive blizzard tore in from the western states and hammered New England. Two of the affected New England states where members of our own Bernie and Polly Marvin family were located at that time were Massachusetts and New Hampshire.

Polly was in Piermont, working the night shift at Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital in radiology, I was in Kingston, Massachusetts with our two sons, Bernie and Spencer publishing my local newspaper, The Kingston Voice.

For my leisure moments and extra income, I had joined the local National Guard Military Police unit after I had completed my eight-year obligation to the Marine Corps. Life was good. We had made a life’s plan that was exciting, adventurous and beneficial for our family’s future.

Our grand plan had been to sell our house and newspaper business, yank the boys out of school and escape Massachusetts by running away to New Hampshire, where we had earlier qualified for good jobs.

We had also found a fine, old home in Haverhill and Polly was working at her job in nearby Hanover and was living in Piermont with her parents. After the house in Kingston sold, I would arrive triumphantly in the North Country in our beige Toyota Land Cruiser with a kitty, the dog, Major and our two boys. What surefire plan!

I had applied for and landed the editor’s job with an area newspaper and the program was set to be put into action. But the big relocation plan utterly failed, when our Kingston house failed to sell. The family was now seriously split, Polly nearly 200 miles away living in Piermont and me in Kingston with the boys. The situation could not possibly have gotten get worse. But it did!

On the morning of February 5, it started snowing heavily, with a very strong wind that caused blinding blizzard conditions. At about 11am that day, a Kingston Police Officer was banging on my door.

“Bernie,” the officer informed me, “your Military Police unit has been activated for immediate blizzard duty in Boston. I’m here to transport you to your armory.” That was the beginning of our nightmare that included a long activation in Boston under the severest conditions, Polly stuck in her blizzard in New Hampshire and our two boys in their blizzard in Kingston without either parent.

My family concerns were immediately voiced to the guard unit’s senior commander. As expected, they fell on deaf ears. “Sergeant Marvin, the entire unit’s been called to Boston. Grab your gear, fall in your Special Reaction Team and get on that six by (military truck) right over there. I’ll see you people in Boston.” With that, our military convoy and 100 MP’s began the 50-mile trek north in the raging storm.

We convoyed to Boston, along the way passing abandoned trucks, cars, people and a disaster of a quickly mounting snowfall that halted all traffic and allowed only our powerful military all-wheel drive vehicles to snake and churn our way into the Boston Police headquarters, where from there, we were dispersed throughout the city. By the time we reached Boston that evening, there was nearly four feet of snow on the roads and the wind was thrashing us at 60 miles per hour and more.

Hasty arrangements were made for our boys to be taken from our house by the Kingston Police and transported to an officer’s home. Polly was notified later that I was gone off into the storm and the boys were safe until she could arrive back at Kingston to deal with it all. When I did make a phone call to our house the see if all was OK, there was no answer, of course. So, I called the Kingston Police from Boston and was told that Bernie and Spence were busy shoveling out neighbors and they were “making a fortune.” They worked the storm all day and well into the night as the snow continued.

In Boston, nothing moved, personal vehicles were banned from the roads, only cabs with essential people were allowed. Our duties included patrolling against looting, assisting with rescue, public safety when a grocery or liquor store was opened to the public later in the week, assisting Boston Police and Fire departments with their emergency calls, transporting nurses to area hospitals and emergency personnel to their jobs throughout Boston and a host of other assignments to keep the city open, commerce moving and provide for the general good in communities that were suffering.

Polly eventually made it by bus to Kingston and was reunited with the boys. Spencer’s pet collection of seven baby snapping turtles remained safe in his possession much to the horror of the folks who finally realized who was in the pail he carried around for safe keeping.

Bernie and Spencer made some serious shoveling money. Massachusetts Governor Mike Dukakis and Boston Mayor Kevin White both came by at various times during our deployment to their city to chat with our unit and expressed their satisfaction with our work.

On a bright sunny morning more than a week after the blizzard began, our MP’s assembled for the day’s assignments, Mayor White walked up and announced that he was ending the activation and we were free to return to our homes. That was a happy message.

I remember the cold convoy out of Boston and the long ride down Route 3 to Kingston. We picked up a police escort along the way and it was an exciting time to pull into our home armory and see Polly and the boys once again.

Three months after all that, we sold the Kingston house and moved to our new location in Haverhill Corner, arriving July 4, 1978. We were all together once again. I quietly bid the National Guard adieu and we picked up with our life’s plan once again.

Whenever we talk about those days of the “Blizzard of ‘78” we recall just how difficult it all was. We have never seen a storm quite like it for the past 42 winters and hope we never do.