Where were you on January 25, 1978? If you lived in Indiana and are over 35, I’ll bet you can recall that day without a problem. If you are a youngster or new to the Indy area, I’d like to tell you a little about the day a blizzard came to town.
I headed off to class at Butler that morning with my friend. She was riding with me because it had snowed and more was predicted. Her parents didn’t want her driving in her little car. I had a pickup. Bob Gregory said it wouldn’t begin getting bad until later that night. Neither of us had any hesitation about going to school. Our last class was at 6:30 that evening, so we’d be home by 7:30 easy. No big deal – then the real snow hit.
It didn’t come down soft and fluffy; it fell with a vengeance. When Nan and I met for lunch there was already 5 or 6 inches on the ground. That wouldn’t have been bad, but the wind was beginning to howl. Nan’s dad worked for the county highway department, so between classes Nan called him to get a road report. We were told to cut the rest of our classes and start home now. Totally against our characters, we obeyed. The normal 30-minute drive to Noblesville, to drop her off, took two hours. I was another 45 minutes getting from there to Olio Road. Luckily the state had keep Ind. 238 fairly open.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. I had seen blizzards on TV and in movies, but this was Indiana; it didn’t do that here! By now I could barely stand against the wind. Drifts were already 3 and 4 feet tall on the roads and in the fields. The wind was brutal. I quickly changed into “barn clothes” and boots, got the horses inside and closed up the old barn as best it could be. On the way out, I grabbed a length of rope, tied it to the hitching rail, brought it to the house and tied it to the dog lot fence. I would be really grateful I had done this the next day.
The storm raged! The old house shivered and groaned as the wind-driven snow beat on it. By some miracle, the old furnace kept going and the electricity stayed on. We watched the TV in wonder. Could this really be happening? By 9 p.m., the snow was falling so hard you couldn’t see more than a couple of feet; the bottom fell out of the thermometer. It was zero by early morning, with a wind chill in the 20 to 30 below range. By mid-day of the 26th, the Governor had declared the state closed. The National Guard had been activated. Hamilton County pulled their trucks off the roads, and everyone waited for the wind and snow to stop.
We were lucky. Having been raised on a farm in the middle of nowhere, my mom had always kept a good stock of food in winter. We couldn’t leave, but we would eat well! I don’t remember how many recipes I learned that week, but it was plenty! We watched TV, listened to WIRE radio and kept the emergency scanner on. I remember the sheriff asking everyone with a 4x4 or a snowmobile to please volunteer to help with medical emergencies. They actually did find a few snowmobiles to use. There was a woman up on Cynthianne Road who went into labor the second night of the storm. They had to evacuate her by snowmobile to 236 and I-69. I’ll bet she’s never let the child forget it either!
The snow and wind finally did stop on the third day late in the evening. It took most of the next day to dig out the front and back doors to the house and a path to the barn. The horses would just have to wait another day to get outside. The drift against the stall doors was over my head.
There was no chance of driving anywhere. Olio Road was so drifted even the snowplows couldn’t get down it. I think it was Monday before IMI came through with their front loaders making one lane through the snow. They dug out from 96th street to Ind. 238. It was eerie; they cut one lane all the way with three or four pull offs where cars could pass. I vividly remember the snow on either side being taller than the school buses for weeks after.
Of course it wasn’t such a big deal back in 1978. HSE was a fairly small school. They closed for almost two weeks. No one lived on Geist then, so there really wasn’t much traffic through Olio. We didn’t get mail for about two weeks, but it didn’t matter much; no one could mail anything. One thing that I was glad for with the snow was a chance to ride my 2-year-old filly for the first time. I knew the Native Americans used to take young horses into deep water to control their impulse to buck when mounted. I decided a nice big snowdrift would work equally well. I was able to ride her with nary a complaint.
In all honesty, I look back on the Blizzard of 1978 as a magical time here on Olio. The world seemed to stop and take a breather for a few days. People had time to sit and talk; neighbors helped neighbors. So even though I don’t particularly like snow, sometimes it’s good to have a reason to stop and experience the people around you and just BE.
