Yes, I’m aware that the prompt specifically asked for a winter memory, and that Easter is a spring holiday. However, this was Chicago, where winter can start as early as the middle of October and end as late as the middle of April, so I think I’m in the clear here.
Let’s set the WABAC machine for March 1964. The Holtons had moved the previous October to their apartment on Glenwood Avenue and are getting ready to celebrate Easter in their home there for the first time, and to celebrate the occasion (or maybe that was just what women did in 1964 around Easter), Mom bought herself a new hat. An Easter bonnet, if you will. And she was really looking forward to wearing it.
Well, to paraphrase an old Yiddish expression, “Mom plans, God laughs.”
The three of us got up on Easter morning, found our Easter baskets, and brought them into the living room, which featured a nice sunporch, an area surrounded on three sides by windows (a better name would be a sunroom or solarium, but we called it a sunporch in Chicago). And we looked out the window, and noticed it was snowing. Hard. Mom and Dad got up about an hour later, and my mother was furious. “I could spit green nickels!” she said. (That was what she said when she wanted to say something worse but we were in the room.)
Now, if you look at the weather for that day, you’ll notice that there was only 0.28″ (7mm) of precipitation. But, since the high temperature was only 26° (-3° C), it came in the form of snow, so you multiply that by 10 to come up with 2.8 inches of snow.
So, we bundled up, Mom in her fur coat and hat, and headed out to church, which was only a block away.
It could have been worse: that was the year that a magnitude 9.2 earthquake hit Alaska on Good Friday. We were happy it was just snow.