Yankees vs. Snowtastrophe: A Day in the Life
The Day Begins
I remember Tuesday, January 28, 2014 as being very cold, so I had to dress in my heavy winter coat, which is unusual for a typical Atlanta winter. I took the MARTA from Roswell to my job at Stride Rite for a three hour shift. I came into the mall thinking that it was unusually quiet. There were few shoppers nor the typical activity you would expect. I didn’t even see the “seniors of the round table” sitting in the food court, discussing the events of the day.
It was interesting to see the shoppers out and about not taking the storm warning seriously. I have to admit that being from Connecticut, I didn’t take it seriously myself—it’s just 2 to 3 inches of snow, how bad can that be? Yet for Atlanta, and Georgia in general, snow of any amount is not to be taken lightly.
I came in to work at 10:30 a.m. and the store was actually doing a brisk business. But a couple of hours later, I began to notice that stores were closing. The Disney Store, Starbucks, Bath and Body Works– all of them have decided to close. My manager was trying to reach the district manager (DM) to find out what time we should close, since it was now snowing, but could not. In the end, she made the decision to close early. I clocked out at 1:45 and started my journey home.
When I stepped outside, I saw about 1.5 inches of snow and I’m thinking to myself, “OK, this isn’t bad. I’ll be able to make it to Roswell with no problems.” My boyfriend Bruce, who worked at Imerys, had already been let out of work at 12:30 p.m. Prior to my leaving the mall, he called to ask me was I on my way. I said I was, but it would take some time for me to get to you.
So here’s where all the drama begins. I got to the MARTA stop at 1:50, and it took only about 5 minutes for the train to arrive. I’m thinking, “Great! I should get to Roswell pretty quickly.” I arrived at the North Springs stop to find that there are no buses to be found. Now from where I was standing, I could see Route 400 in the distance and it was crawling…very slowly. So now it is 2:45 p.m. and the bus finally arrives. Luckily it was a bus that could take me to where my guy was, so I hopped on along with the other passengers and we slowly started making our way up 400 North.
When I tell you that the traffic was crawling, it was slower than a babies crawl! I did make it to the Mansell Park and Ride at 4pm, for what typically should have been a 10 minutes highway trip. It wouldn’t do any good for me to complain, I was just glad to get where I was going. Fortunately for me, Bruce was already at the Park and Ride.
Not a Smart Move!
After I got into the car he said, “Perhaps we should wait the traffic out, so why don’t we get something to eat?” I was thinking, “Well, ok.” So he decides to get back on Georgia 400 to travel one exit south.
While we were driving on the shoulder, I smelled a strange odor in the car, so my guy turns off the engine. Oh, no—the car won’t start! Bruce is about to lose his cool and I’m just at my wits end. Call it divine providence, but one minute later a AAA vehicle was right next to us! One 10-second jump later, we were mobile, but the car in front of us was not keeping pace with the traffic. This got my guy really pissed off, so much so that he was actually able to get out of his car, walk over to the other car, tap on the glass and ask him to move. Of course the guy just turn up his car radio–not acknowledging his presence at all. So what did he do? He drove on the grass next to the shoulder, swerved around him and moved past. Thankfully, he didn’t get stuck.
Seeking Safe Havens
The drive to the next exit took an hour and 20 minutes. At this point, I’m thinking, ”We need to eat but we really need to get ourselves home.” Fortunately for us, we were near a local Waffle House, close to the off ramp; but it would take another half hour to travel that half of a mile. It was filled to capacity and beyond with people wanting to get out of the cold and people wanting to eat. I felt for the staff, as most had been there since 5 a.m. We were able to be served an hour later and we were grateful. We ate our All-Star Specials and reluctantly made our way outside.
The sun has already set and the three inches of slush had frozen, making streets skating rinks. I see cars on both sides of the road and parents anxiously waiting to pick up their children from school buses that are hours late.
“Maybe we can take some secondary roads to get home,” I thought. So I plot a route up Holcomb Bridge Road to Woodstock Road, cross over Route 92 and then take Mountain Park Road to home. I give my guy a bunch of credit, as he is a Connecticut native who is used to driving on snow and ice. He’s driving that V6 Mustang with rear wheel drive like a champ, which would throw most drivers into a spin (pardon the pun). But there was just one road that he could not cross and by this time it is about 11:30 p.m. We are four miles away from home, but there is just no way to cross over this 35 degree incline. Gas is low and I’m beginning to worry. Where can we go?
Thankfully we were only a few miles away from a firehouse! A gentleman, whose name I don’t even know was checking on lost and stranded motorists. He advised us to go to the Mountain Park Volunteer Fire and Rescue (MPVFR) station. He even showed us the way, jogging just ahead of us. And luckily, we made it.
Thirty hours later, we we’re home in our own bed. Thanks to my boyfriend and the MPVFR , a day in the life of the snowtastrophe was behind us!
Connecticut native Regi Waters is no stranger to snowstorms, but as a transplant to Atlanta, the “Snowtastophe” was a risky situation to be in. Thankfully, she wasn’t involved in an accident. Although if an accident had occurred, she could’ve relied on http://www.stokesinjurylawyers.com/ for legal assistance.
Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/williambrawley/12197276904/
Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/williambrawley/12197118003/
Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/gogostevie/4354284556/