All the pine trees along the highway, planted a long time ago to protect the roads, were draped with snow, causing their branches to droop, as if in a deep sleep for winter’s long hibernation. The trees, deeper into the woods were stripped of their leaves and the snow was piled high against them. It made me think about the animals who foraged there, wondering if they survived the storm, like the deer who always had trouble finding food in winter and often chewed on the bark of those trees to sustain themselves. I quietly wished them well and said a little prayer for them to be safe.

Then, when there were wide open expanses of land, the heaps of snow made weird, swirling patterns like meringue on a cocoanut cream pie. Popping up like corks were rows of fence posts, barely sticking out in some places and pretty much exposed in others. There were times that I was just so struck by an extraordinary vision that I asked Howie to stop  so I could capture it on film. It was kind of like being the first photographer on a battle scene, or a train wreck, taking the photo right after it happened knowing everything will change before too long. I knew I had a story here. I knew this was working out very well from the aspect of my work and as I wrote the story in my mind, it helped pass the time.

It was nearly 2 p.m. when we arrived in Phillips. When we pulled up to my parent’s home they came rushing out with relief, followed by my two sisters and my brother. We enjoyed a group hug, then individual ones. They even embraced Howie before I could introduce him. Everyone was chattering at once. My luggage got pulled out of the trunk and taken inside.

My mother asked Howie if he would like a piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream and of course he acquiesced with a big smile on his face. He was invited to sit down at the kitchen table, while I asked if the telephones were working and was told they were not.

Howie actually had two pieces of pie and drank a cup of coffee. We told them what had happened to us and we all agreed we were damn lucky. Mother of course called it divine intervention and gave me a few extra hugs, knowing I was safe and sound.

Howie soon excused himself, saying he still had a two hour trip to Ashland before dark. After his brief goodbyes to my family, I followed him out to his car. On the way, I thanked him for everything he did. “I mean it,” I added. “I don’t think I would have made it if I had been alone.”

He stopped at his front car door, turned toward me and leaned against it. “I don’t know if that Jack Daniels helped us from freezing or not but it made me say things I should have said months ago.  Do you remember what we talked about?"

I shook my head with a small smile. “I’m not sure,” I said, quite honestly. “Things got a bit fuzzy for me.”

“Well, maybe it’ll come to you as time goes by.”

“Yes, maybe.” I put my hand out for him to shake. “Thanks again, Howie and I wish you a very Merry Christmas.”

He took my hand and held it between both of his, saying, “Merry Christmas to you too Sissee."  He seemed not to want to let go until I pulled my hand away.   He told me he would call me next week, then  got in his car and headed north.