I remember several things about that Tuesday, February 8th: We got to school (I was in sixth grade), and watched the snow start in English class, then moved on to Gym class, where I remember opening the door to the outside of the locker room and it being just a wall of white. Later that evening, when I got home, I remember my dad (who had told me many previous times that any snow in the preceding years was “not a real storm” and would regale me with stories of the 1960-1961 and proceeding winters) mentioning how coming home on Route 3 was an absolute nightmare (he had a briefcase cellphone at the time), and that he hadn’t seen something like this in years. He then told me, “Now this is a real winter.” Again, my all-time favorite. It had everything; snow, ice, record cold, long duration, plus I was 11. .