Walking in a Winter Horrorland

January 31, 2000

So, who almost died coming here today?

I woke up this morning at 6:45, planning on hearing a nice little ‘classes are cancelled’ message on my radio. I waited until seven. The news came, the local weather (gee, was it icy perhaps?) and then the local news report followed by- music. School wasn’t cancelled. It had poured sheets of ice the night before and school wasn’t cancelled.

In my semi-conscious mind I reasoned to get up and get ready for the day. Suddenly it struck me that my classes didn’t start for another three hours; I had set my clock for the wrong day. It was time to take a cold pill though, so I took a Ny-Quil and fell fast asleep, only to be woken an hour and a half later by the crash of a body and the shouting of an obscenity outside my window. What a lovely way to start a day. Well, appropriate anyway as I was soon to find out.

Getting dressed I headed out to the bookstore to pick up the last book I needed for that morning’s class- I had heard that it finally came in. Bundling up I left the building and faced my personal nightmare- a long path coated with what appeared to be a three-inch thick layer of ice.

I should stop here and tell you that I took ice skating lessons the winter when I was 12 years old. I demanded that the instructor not let go of my hand until I was off the ice. The most I could do on ice was push off with my left foot and aim in the general direction of the wall. That, of course, was when I had skates on; not when I had boots on and an hour before class to get a book.

Soon I decided to walk in the snow; the ice wasn’t as solid on top and it was easier to balance in- or so I thought. I soon found out that under the pristine ice-coated winter wonderland lay puddles of thick brown slush that quickly pervaded my boots, socks and pant legs. The slush, however, was still the better of the two fates- at least for a person who had fallen thanks to the slippery stuff three times the week before.

I made it to the crosswalk at the same time as the little red maintenance cart. "Move over so I don’t run into you!" the driver shouted. Courtesy permeates this campus but I figured that out at seven am. Anyway, I made it across the street only to step into another ditch full of slush on the other side.

The bookstore. After I pried my wet leg out of the muddy hole I walked up the steps to the door with my debit card in hand. My non-viable debit card. The sign on the door read something to the effect of ‘Debit machine down today- cash and check transactions only.’ My exact reaction has been burned out by frustration in my mind, but the next thing I remember, I was stomping through the slush silently fuming. Exercises in futility are for the simply amused, not the easily annoyed.

I debated going out once more for class. On the way back to my dorm three people practically fell on top of each other while sliding along on the ice. I eventually decided that class would be a good idea, however, since I hadn’t been there in about a week- because you know, Rowan closes campus when there’s snow you can hoof through, but not ice you can slip on. Leaving my building once more, I slid into a girl who said that someone had just fallen by the crosswalk and she just knew she would be next. I kept walking along my path gingerly, the ice moistening every step, when I saw two other girls.

"Watch where the paths cross- I almost fell and broke my ankle!" one girl warned me in frustration.

"I swear, this is insanity!" another one complained. "When I got here this morning, the commuter lot was one sheet of solid ice! I hope I fall and break my leg, then Rowan can pay their own tuition!" she shouted in disgust. I couldn’t help but almost agree with her.

Continuing to slip and slide, I found my personal Xanadu in a stretch of pavement that had been salted. Apparently they still do that in some places around campus. Three maintenance men huddled over a bag of sand, peering desperately at its contents. They obviously didn’t have the amount that the job required. I walked into Bunce Hall, proud that I had survived the journey despite maintenance’s lack of vision.

"Apparently Rowan closes school based on the amount of snow, not how travelable it is," my professor commented as he came into class. A class of 35 mind you, that had all of 20 attendees.

In my next class one woman, the mother of five, was shocked that school hadn’t been cancelled for any of her children. It had taken her two-and-a-half-hours to navigate through the ice in her neighborhood to get her kids to school. Another girl was scared to death, her car having skid five times on her drive. Half of the class was late because the campus had become a skating rink and apparently they didn’t have the skate rental fee.

Granted, we’ve had quite a few snow days this semester- three so far in the first two weeks. But when it comes to the safety of everyone involved, shouldn’t an extra day, or even half a day be taken out to assure that everyone can indeed attend class? Fine, keep campus open, but at least keep the paths clear so the Health Center isn’t overrun by students with broken limbs being dosed on Sudafed.

I did have another speech prepared for today’s class, however I felt the need to share my observations. I find it sadly humorous that a college with University status could still make such an error in judgement. I’m sure that this fiasco will turn into another memory soon enough, however, and one day when our grandchildren ask us about our fond memories of college, we can tell them the adventures of slipping and sliding through the campus during the Winter Storm of 2000. Then they can look at us, mock us for our senile memories and proceed to break a leg heading out to their own classes.

Some people never learn.