Remembering the blizzard of 1968-69
From the Winter 2017 Issue
Ross Hall Collection
Ross Hall Collection
The Blizzard of ’69 actually started in 1968. It quit – finally — in 1969, after six weeks of winter on steroids. My recollection – augmented by others’ memories and archives at the museum — is this:
Dec. 30, I open the back door to go to work at Travler’s Motel and – holy snow flakes! The walks are full. My car is buried. Snow is horizontal.
I face into the blowing snow and begin the wade through two feet of snow to the motel on Fifth. The lobby door is snowed in. From both sides. A foot of fine snow has sifted in under the door. I shovel both sides. The thermometer reads minus 30. Holy frostbite!
Breakfast cocktails
The motel is full of skiers. They can’t get to Schweitzer, which is closed anyway. In 1969, Sunday in Idaho is dry, but skiers from the country up north, ever prepared for such emergencies, have broken out private supplies of alcohol and are having cocktails with their eggs. At 8 a.m., I call my boss for advice.
His sage words to this high school senior: Stay out of the restaurant.
Next morning, minus 37. The people from up north brought enough for Monday, too.
Thus began the blizzard, but snow has been coming in record amounts — 32 inches in December, 12 inches over average. By Jan. 16, six more than the 24-inch January average has already fallen.
Our dad’s 1967 F-100 four-wheel-drive pickup with a newly installed block heater and tire chains is the go-to neighborhood transportation option. The sheriff allows snowmobiles on public roads. Most curbs are piled so high that there is no more piling. It keeps coming.
Giant snow castles
By Jan. 23, the storm has become old news, moving to the back page of Section A of the Sandpoint News-Bulletin. That day, though, the temperature drops to minus 14. Here we go again. Sixty-seven inches of snow have fallen. Schools are still closed. Kids are incredulously happy – giant snow castles are being built in massive curbside piles – but they are the only ones. The school board begins talking about school on Saturdays. Ha! The teachers put the skids on that.
Jan. 30, weather comes back to the front page. “Bonner County struggling out from under worst storm in more than 20 years.”
Ten lows in single digits or below zero since Dec. 28 and 82 inches of snow, 20 since Jan.16. Twelve-foot drifts in town, 20-foot drifts in the Selle Valley. The county begs the state for a rotary plow. Papa Bear, aka Chair 4, aka Sunnyside, opens at Schweitzer, with snow accumulation at 161 inches, but nobody can get to the celebration.
The Boy Scout troops of Sandpoint get stranded at Camp Stidwell on Mirror Lake. Troop 111 and the Sea Scouts, of which my brothers are members, enjoy the luck. The F-100 provides a ride home for many. As a last hurrah, the Idaho Elks Convention gets stranded the first weekend in February. They, too, have brought emergency supplies. Once again, I stay out of the restaurant on Sunday.
On Feb. 6, Mother Nature is done. The blizzard of 1969, that started in 1968, is over.
It was the coolest.
–Sandy Compton
12 responses to “Remembering the blizzard of 1968-69”
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We were supposed to close up my mother in laws house but the snow was overpaying, so we had to keep it going all winter.
Early 1968 very huge snowfall. Shutting roads, schools. I was a teacher then.
Linda Smith-Ross
Was there ever babies born
The biggest snow year experienced in Newyork city was in 1969. Emergency units or Sanitation Dept weren’t prepared back in the day as they are nowadays. Learing from history!
I was attending the u of I at that time.
I remember that storm as a kid. I was 5. I opened the door to go outside and was met with a wall of snow as high as the top of the door. The National guard was called in to help. We dug a tunnel out as far as the street even. Spent many days flying down the hill near our home on our waxed cardboard sleds, plastic taboggans, sleds with blade runners. Best year ever.
I came across your article and enjoyed the story. I remember riding in to Sandpoint from Kootenai on a snowmobile to I go to a movie at the Panda. I tell people of that winter and I’m sure they think I’m just telling whoppers! Had to be there, right?
I grew up in Conde, SD and was 12 or 13 then. My dad was a mechanic and sold snowmobiles. I remember having to hall fuel oil to 1 of the farmers as no other way to get it there other than snowmobile. It is flat there and even if it didn’t snow, the wind would come up and close all the country roads.
I was stationed at Fairchild AFB in the winter of ’68/69. I was assigned in munitions on the B-52s on base. People rode snowmobiles over fences on farms. On base the alert aircraft remained on alert. I was assigned to assist the base maintenance crew in clearing the snow in the bomb storage area which at the time was blown shut with over 80″ of snow. And the temperatures were below zero for over 2 weeks straight. Most snow the area had ever.
I remember moving from the Bronx to Monroe New York, only 50 miles away. I believe it was the storm on December 30 and it took the tractor trailer four hours to drive through the blizzard to go 50 miles I could not believe the amount of snow and being raised in the Bronx I thought we were in God’s country. it took my mom about one week and she said to my dad get me out of here I am in nowhere’s land ha ha ha I will never forget because we were on top of a mountain and it was the best sleigh riding I ever did we had a blast
I lived on West 81st St. When I woke up that morning — the morning after Mayor Lindsey deluded that plowing could wait until morning — it was very quiet. There were no typical city sounds — just the wonderful, quiet, beautiful, clean white snow. Cars were buried, roaring buses were gone — even the subways were closed! And then I heard the laughter. — kids and adults having snowball fights and laughing joyously, using garbage can lids and pieces f cardboard as sleds, and getting skis out to glide through the traffic less streets of the Big Apple. It was a little bit of Heaven. But Mayor John Lindsey was NOT re-elected.
I was there.