Slip Sliding Away

On snowy nights like this when I was living at home with my parents Carl and Sybil Miner Beck, Mom would hustle us into the living room to sit on the sofa. Our home was located along Route 711 between Normalville and Indian Head. The picture window faced the highway on a steep hill and when the snow fell heavily, it became coated and slick until the snowplows could clear the snow and lay down antiskid material. It was our perch while we waited for my dad to return from work from the afternoon shift at Walworth Valve Company in South Greensburg, Pennsylvania.

We would watch vehicles as they attempted to make the hill climb, safe and warm from inside the darkened room,. Back then, very few cars and even trucks had four wheel drive. A Jeep was the only SUV. Snow tires and chains were the “go to” for winter traction. Entertainment was hard to come by and it didn’t take much to create excitement.

Traffic wasn’t as heavy then and with the heavy snows, most people stayed at home choosing not to venture out and risk an accident. No businesses were open twenty-four hours each day like it is now. There were no open all night service stations and there were no such things as a mini-mart. The only gas stations and restaurants were on the Pennsylvania Turnpike that stayed open when darkness set in.

We’d watch as some vehicles kept enough speed having snow tires or chains to climb the hill at the first try. We could tell cars that had chains. The clacking, ringing sound was distinct as the car passed before our eyes. Other drivers weren’t so fortunate and their cars swerved and spun to inch their way to the top. One thing those drivers seeking traction did was to make the road even more slippery for those who followed.

There were really some unfortunate drivers who would stop, unable to go forward. They’d back down the hill or turn around in the middle of the road to retreat. Sometimes they’d regroup to make another attempt other times it became a complete rout and the driver would chose to go back the way he came before challenging our the hill.

The entertainment would last only until the revolving amber lights from the snowplow would appear. The rotating lights announced the plow’s arrival. The staccato flash of the yellow beams would shoot though our living room window to shine on our faces and illuminate the inside of the room. The show was over for the night and Mom would close the curtains.