While reminiscing one day I drifted back to 1979 in England. My husband was in the Air Force, and had an assignment to Mildenhall for 5 years. We neared the end of his overseas tour. He got orders to go back to the US for retraining and reassignment. I had been working at the Officers' Club as a waitress. After he left, I continued working while my mother looked after our sons. On this particular evening, I went to work as usual.

It was snowing lightly. After the shift, it was still snowing. This was infrequent in England, and usually short lived. Some friends gave me a lift toward the village where we lived. But as we drove part way, problems arose. The only road to the village was blocked by snow drifts. I said I would walk home, as the others lived in the opposite direction. Home for me was 3 miles around a curved perimeter road and I was about to have a shock.

The storm had sent snow blowing across the open area flight line. That caused deeper snow across the road. This generated more fear than I had known. The now howling wind blew snow in erratic piles two to three feet deep.The freezing wind chill was colder than I'd ever experienced in my life. I had only dressed for the shift. I was wearing shoes, a thin jacket, short skirt, and short sleeve top.
I was already cold. Now my heart was pounding, as I struggled to take steps. I was headed into the freezing wind, while snow distorted my vision. It was then 11pm at night. I was tired and becoming weak from the resistant drifts. I had no cell phone, and the blackness held only a distant house light far away. Thoughts of my family loomed, and falling was my fear. That fear further decreased my efforts. There was no turning back. My feet, legs and face were becoming numb from the icy blasts of wind. I was breathing heavily, my chest burned and I began to stagger.

Somehow I knew I had to get help, but there was darkness except for that faint light. Faith and determination allowed me to get as far as the distant house. I staggered to the door, and knocked. Now, warnings about strangers suddenly added to my fear. Who would answer the door this night?
By God's grace, a kind face appeared, and seeing my blue tinged skin,the elderly lady invited me in. "I only need to use your phone" I told the little old lady. With one look, she took me inside. She not only let me use her phone to call my frantic mother, but also insisted I drink warm soup. She was my angel that night. Without her help, I probably would have got hypothermia, and died.

After, I walked the rest of the miles still shaking. The 2 mile curve was now straight road and the snow was slower. I got home about 1 o'clock in the morning. My mother was shocked at my now purple skin. It took me over an hour to stop shaking. Thank God I was now safe.

The memory of that snow storm plagued me. Back in the States, every time snow was forecast, my flight or fight system would bring back the traumatic memory, and I shook. It took years to ease my winter weather fears.The irony was that my husband got sent to Michigan's Upper Peninsular where the snow dumps drifts higher than cars. I had to reprogram my approach. I was traumatized every time we were driving the twenty miles to town, in case the car got stuck.

I still am thankful to God and my guardian angel for being alive today. I still love snow as long as it's
in a picture!