Topeka Daily Capital
Feb. 8, 1961

You get out of bed slowly, taking your time, but your wife, looking out the window, tells you it’s bad out and that you may have some trouble getting to work. You look out. Snow is heavy on the ground and more is falling.

Some people, you say, may have trouble, but not you. You are an experienced snow driver, cool as the ice on the streets and steady as the snowfall. You know, too, that your trusty car will not fail you.

By the time you’re ready to leave the house, you feel you could drive across Antarctica. Your enthusiasm isn’t dulled by the usual interruptions as you prepare to go.

The kids have to have $14.75 for a few school incidentals. You get instructions on a few errands you have to run after work. You explain again that you’ll clean the furnace filters as soon as you get some time. You show concern over the fact one of the girls may have a temperature and you say no, you don’t know why the other one won’t eat.

Then you’re ready. Where are the car keys?

You had them last, your wife says. No, you say, you had them. No, she says, and then you start yelling, wondering why everything gets lost around here and why there can’t be a place for the car keys and –

One of the boys reports. The keys are in the car. You remember leaving them there, but you don’t say it.

You get to the car. Ice on the windshield, But that scraper a fellow gave you last summer will fix that. It’s in the glove compartment. Only it’s not there. You bellow, where’s that scraper? By the time you get back to the house, the kids are hiding and your wife hands you a kitchen knife and says sweetly, this will work fine, go cut your throat.

You finally get the windows reasonably clear, so now you’re ready to go to work. The car isn’t. “America’s number one economy car” is really economical this morning. It ain’t gonna burn an ounce of gas. It ain’t gonna move.

You control yourself admirably, and it’s not too long before you have a push from a neighbor who has an old uneconomical car that will start. You leave for work.

Wow! That first corner was a little slicker than you thought. Take it easy, now. No worry about that big hill coming up soon. The city will have that sanded. Here it is. No sand. If you ever get up this hill, you’ll write something about the city commission that will burn the snow off.

Quit honking at me! Hell, no, I can’t get up the hill. I can’t even get back down the hill with you right behind me. Chains? If I had chains, I’d use one to strangle you and the other to strangle the street commissioner.

You get a push and make the hill. Now, if you can time that stoplight just right, you’ve got it made. Going to make it. Just one car ahead of you – don’t stop! Bang! Sorry, pal …. Nothing hurt …. (you idiot) ….

Just one more stop sign between you and the office now. Big line of cars. Keep inching forward. Now, you’re first in line. Nothing to it. Green light. This is ridiculous. You’re on level ground and the car won’t go.

You say that if that guy behind you blows that horn once more, you’re going back and break his thumb. Now you’re moving, but the light is turning red. Ignore it. Keep going. Here comes the cross traffic. The same to you, loud mouth!

Finally got it made. Here’s the office and there’s a parking space. Oops.! Hit that curb a little hard. Bent that meter pole a little, too, but the city can fix that.

As you hang up your coat in the office, somebody asks, “Have any trouble getting to work?” Not a bit, you say. That snow is no problem for a man who knows how to drive in it.