A little more than a month ago, on a Monday evening, the city of Nashville and, really, all of middle Tennessee, was paralyzed by an ice storm.
As middle Tennesseans, dating all the way back to childhood days of Bill Hall on Channel 4, Snow Bird and even earlier, Tom Siler ("the weather wizard") on Channel 2, we've grown skeptical over the years whenever snow and ice are predicted for Nashville. Far more times than not, the white stuff bypasses us and lands "on the plateau," between Cookeville and Knoxville, and the children are disappointed again. We never seem to get any real snowstorms or ice storms, for that matter, in middle Tennessee.
Perhaps that's why when we do get a winter storm, it's special.
Monday night (February 15, 2021), as the sleet and freezing rain arrived, things got quickly got hairy. I was smart enough to move Jude's gracefully aging Honda Pilot from the front of our house - someone hit it and drove off a few years ago, during the last significant winter storm. Sure enough, after dark, four different vehicles slid down 15th Street in front of our house, tried to turn right, lost control, and jumped the curb into our neighbor's yard or slammed into the car already there.
The first car ran over a crepe myrtle tree, scraped a fire hydrant, and ended up in our neighbor's yard, 10 or 15 feet from their front door. The next car jumped the curb rear ended the first car. A third car did the same thing, after the second car was moved. Finally, about 10 p.m., another car jumped the curb and blew out a tire.
About 10:30 p.m. Monday night, J.P. and I spontaneously decided to go outside and check the streets to see how bad they were. Our primary motivation, though, was to get in some late night sledding on 15th Street above and below our house. First, we helped the driver of "car #4" change his tire, although I'm not sure if the assistance I provided qualifies as helping. While I did show the driver how to get the spare tire out of his trunk, I also tried to jack the car up with the jack upside down, if that tells you anything.
J.P. and I had a blast sledding. We were, of course, the only ones out that late at night. First we sledded on 15th Street below our house, from Linden Avenue (our street) down to the turnabout at 15th Street and Elmwood Avenue. Our sleds are turquoise blue and yellow plastic toboggins that we've had since the boys were little and over the years, they've gotten a lot of use every time after ice storms, on roads near our house or, on a rare occasion, in Sevier Park when we have had a heavy snow.
Spending that hour or so with J.P., late at night, was memorable. A snapshot moment. It was sleeting, the sky was a light gray and promising more sleet and know to come overnight, and the roads were covered with ice and a little snow. There was a hazy glow, almost a halogen halo, around the street lights. Time almost seemed to stand still as slid down the hill on 15th Street on our backs, on the toboggins, using our feet to steer then sliding into the curb on Elmwood Avenue at the end of our run.
We smiled, laughed, and talked quietly as we trudged back up 15th Street for another run. As is so often the case, what was left unspoken between us was the really important part. Together, we knew the night was special, I think, and that each of us would hold the memory in our hearts forever. There was an innocence about it, a feeling that we were carefree, a timelessness to the moments we spent together.
Later that week, it became a thing of hours, J.P and me. Sneaking out, so to speak, for some sledding time in the snow after Joe went to bed. The boys were out of school on Tuesday, then in remote school for the rest of our week, so their schedule was off. Jude tolerated out nightly excursions. Still, J.P. and I felt like we were getting away with something as we eased out the door each night at 9:30 p.m. or so.
On night - Thursday or Friday, I think - Jude came back from a walk, after dinner, and told me it was snowing, at last, huge flakes. I bundled up and stepped out the front door for a walk. Damn, she was right! Big, big snowflakes falling from the sky, covering the ice already on the ground and in the streets. I put it my air pods and listened to one of my favorite playlists - The Haunting - as I walked down to 12South and marveled at the beauty all around me.
It's so rare to see 12South quiet and rarer still to see it blanketed with newly fallen snow that I impulsively began taking pictures with my cell phone of some of my favorite places. Frothy Monkey, the vegetable/flower/pumpkin/Christmas tree lot, Mafiozza's, Portland Brew. I walked down the middle of 12th Avenue South, moving out of the road when the occasional car carefully made it's way through the deserted commercial district of our neighborhood. I don't think I'll ever forget that night for how singularly beautiful it was.
Time slowed down that week - the week of the ice and snow - for sure. J.P. and Joe and, of course, Jude, had a ball sledding down 15th Street in front of out house, every day. J.P. and Joe figured out how to sled down the hill, through a break and up a ramp in the sidewalk, right into our front yard. If they hit it just right, they were able to sled right up to our front door. It was awesome and they loved every minute of it, as I did.
On Thursday afternoon, I think, I ventured out for my first run of the week. I ran in the middle of the road when I could, to stay out of the slushy ice and snow on the sides of the road. It was slow going, very slow going, but it was great to get five miles in after being inside all week. The next day, Friday afternoon, I noticed it was snowing, so I got my gear on and slipped outside for a run in the falling snow. Perfection.
By Sunday and, for sure, Monday, the boys were ready for the ice and snow to be gone, so they could get outside and play again, and get back to school.
The great ice storm of 2021 was a nice interlude in our busy lives. Time slowed down, a bit, and as a family, we slowed down a bit, too.
When I look outside, now, it's hard to be believe that a month or so ago, the entire city of Nashville was shut down. Now, the grass is growing and flowers are blooming. Yesterday, strangely enough, was the first day of spring, bringing with it hope and optimism that the pandemic is nearing at end. That, of course, remains to be seen.
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