The First Storm of the Winter in New York

Sydney M. Williams
December 27, 2010

The First Storm of the Winter in New York

“When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I’ll know I’m growing old.”

                                                                                                                        “Lady Bird” Johnson

New York is always beautiful during the first snow storm of the year. As the winter drags on, a yearning for spring replaces the exhilaration of those first December flakes. But today, cars are absent, or at least cars in motion are absent. Those left on the street are barely visible beneath a combination of new fallen snow and snow-plowed banks. And there are always a few cars left stuck in the roads by foolhardy souls who felt their Chevy sedan was impervious to snow. People are friendly. Everybody is in a good mood and says good morning, even those charged with shoveling the side walks. These are special moments in New York, unfortunately impossible to bottle and re-sell in late February when we tire of the thought of another storm, or during the hot dog days of August when anger percolates, for no visible reason.

Of course the next day, the white banks have become grey, slush has turned to ice and tempers have reverted to their New York norms. However, this morning I walked over to Lexington Avenue, found one news store open and proceeded to walk down the center of the Lexington, then over to Third Avenue on 54th Street, past Citigroup Center, knowing the side walk would be shoveled. Third was busier and the sidewalks were generally clear; however, the spirit of freshness and renewal, so timely as we close out the Old Year, was palpable.

Restaurants were the same – nearly empty, but staffed with friendly waiters. A big storm infuses people with a sense of a shared experience, bringing them closer together, providing a fleeting glance as to what a world without war and deprivation might really be like.

The sky this afternoon is blue; the sun is shining. The storm has disappeared, having moved off toward the north and east. Though it is cold outside, the clear sky reminds me of the innocent look Dennis the Menace would provide his neighbor following one of his diabolical escapades: who, me? Likewise the Gulf of Mexico, just a few days after “Katrina”, was as calm as a toad in the sun.

New York will always be exciting. It doesn’t take a storm to enliven the place. It is a big city whose very diversity makes it unique. That will never, I hope, change. On the other hand, this morning for a few moments – a few hours, perhaps a day – the city and its people were as one. We survived the big snow. We had experienced it together. Central Park recorded twenty inches, but with wind gusts up to 60 miles per hour, drifts were even higher.

A big storm is a way for nature to alert us as to who is in charge. Growing up in New Hampshire there was a time when I thought that New Yorkers made too much of snow storms. They didn’t take it in stride. But having lived in the city for fifteen years I like the way New Yorkers handle the experience. So what that a taxi driver who grew up in Jamaica and has only been in the country for a few months has trouble driving in snow? It is to be expected. Who cares? This is where I now live and work, and there are few experiences more rewarding than seeing the city in the midst, and in the immediate aftermath, of an early snow storm.