I was 9 that year. We lived in Marcellus just outside of Syracuse. Our house was up on a hill outside of town and it took a few days before the plows showed up. When they finally got to our road there were guys with snow shoes poking r-bar into the snow ahead of the plows looking for cars.
My father had to get a neighbor with a backhoe to dig out the drifts in our driveway. I was too young to think it wasn’t just normal winter.