Winter in My Home Away From Home

Winter in Rochester as I remember it in the late 1950s. Since we were only allowed two visits home that first winter in nurses' training at St. Mary's, we often trudged the long blocks downtown for a break, where the sole Mayo Clinic building towered over the city.

Winter Memories of the 1950s

The crunch of snow with each step in 20 degree below weather...

The sound of loose tire chains clanking against the inside of the car fenders as cars and buses accelerated to crest Dubuque's steep snow-packed hills...

The repetitive sound of the snow shovel against cement from November through March, day in and day out...

Checking the overnight snowfall first thing in the morning, despite the fact that school was never cancelled...

Street lights casting long shadows on the mounds of shoveled snow...

Snow angels, snowmen, forts, snowball fights (if it wasn't too cold to pack a perfect snowball)...

Rushing home from school to see if the city had flooded the ice rink two blocks away, then anticipating the thrill of skating hand-in-hand with that special boy...

Spreading the word which streets were blocked off for sledding...

Dragging the tobaggan to Bunker Hill or the Country Club for a group sledding date, then meeting at a nearby house for hot cocoa...

All these and more remind me that winters in Dubuque during the 50s were magical. It was not until much later that I had to shovel the walk or dig out my car or try to get it started and warmed in time to get to work.

Winter Snow

Were severe winters so commonplace in Iowa that my ancestors didn't choose to photograph them? I found only these in my collection. And, did 1943 to 1949 see record snowfalls in Dubuque? And if not, why did my father take only these?

The first photo was taken about 1943 and I'm standing next to a family heirloom that I would dearly love to find. I was told that my great-grandfather, M. F. Michels, a skilled carpenter and painter of detailed and exquisite embellishments on the passenger cars for the Milwaukee Railroad at their shops in Dubuque, handcrafted this sled, perhaps for my father, his grandson. It was a deep maroon and the scene in front is of a deer and other animals in the forest. After I left home to start nursing school and as my parents moved into their second home, my father donated many beautiful family pieces from his childhood, including this sled, to St. Vincent de Paul. I never dreamed I had to ask to keep it.

This photo was taken the winter of 1944 in our backyard in Dubuque, Iowa. It looks like I struggled to make it this far, falling a few times. Not long after, I'm sure I sat inside next to the heat register from our coal furnace, trying to get warm, a favorite place for my sisters and me to dress during the cold winter mornings.

By February, 1947, when the following photo was taken, my sister, Carolyn, had arrived. Here, she and I stand guard over a fort my father made by piling the snow until the walls were higher than my shoulders. My winter memories are of deep, deep snow. Now I know why...I was a lot shorter back then.

The last photo was taken during January, 1949. My second sister, Liz, was to arrive two months later. The snow looks too cold to pack into perfect snowballs, a common problem during our cold, cold winters. But we could eat it.