I checked the weather forecast at around eight in the morning on
December 23 for updates on the blizzard that would be hitting
western New York sometime that day. I was planning to go
spend Christmas with my family in Niagara Falls. It looked like I
would be fine, and that the worst weather would come just as I
would be arriving there. So I brought my two kitties (Dorothy and
Buster) into the car and strapped their cat carriers securely with the
seatbelts. I left Ithaca at around 10:00 a.m., hoping for the best.
I traveled on Route 96, and other than a few slippery spots, the
drive was fine. I got on the NYS Thruway in Geneva at roughly
11:00 a.m. The roads had been plowed to the pathway, but I could
feel the turbulence of the blustery winds shaking my car, and I
grasped the steering wheel tightly, white knuckles all the way.
My GPS rerouted me off the thruway to Exit 46 before bringing
me back. The wind resumed, and as I continued west, I saw an
overturned SUV about one-hundred yards off the road. I thought
to myself, that’s an ominous sign of things to come.
So the GPS rerouted me off the thruway at the Batavia exit,
which is usually about an hour’s drive from my parent’s house. I
was now on side roads, and the snowfall was steadily increasing.
The visibility continued to get worse, and all the vehicles that I
saw had their hazards on, but I was making progress, thinking
about seeing my family. I came to a stop sign, and, with a handful
of other people, ended up helping a motorist whose vehicle was
stuck get going. When I got back in my car, I realized that I was
stuck, and three drivers got out and pushed me through the
intersection. (Thank you, strangers!)
I had driven for about a mile when the visibility dropped to
almost zero. There were short whiteouts, then I could see for a
few seconds, then more whiteouts. It was terrifying and I knew
that I had to pull over.
I turned into the next driveway. There were two vehicles there
that were nearly buried, and colossal drifts of snow blocked the
garage door. It looked like no one had been here in a while. I
texted my sister to update my situation, and I thought that I might
be stuck here, in Oakfield, NY (a small town that I never heard
of), for a couple of hours. After about twenty minutes, a man
came out of the house and knocked on my window.
“Do you want to come inside?”
“Yes, but I have two cats.”
“You can bring them into the garage. It’s heated.”
So I grabbed the two cat carriers and brought them into the
garage. “I’m Earl,” the man said, reaching out to shake my hand. I
told him that I didn’t have any cat litter as I set Dorothy and
Buster free.
“No problem,” Earl said. He got on his knees, reached under a
covered car in the garage, and smiling, pulled out a tray filled
with cat litter that he had been using in case the car leaked any
fluids. It reminded me of a magician conjuring a rabbit out of a
hat. So we got the kitties set up and I followed him into his house.
Earl introduced me to his wife Pamela, who asked if I wanted a
venison hot dog. I wasn’t planning on being there too long so I
declined. They invited me into the living room, where I met their
daughter, Maddie, who was watching TV. We made small talk for
a while, and Earl invited me into the family room. He told me
that he had recently retired (well, partially retired) from Lamb and
Webster, a farming equipment company, and we got to know
each other. He spoke of his family’s passion for hunting, which he
hopes to do more of in retirement. He also told me that his father
made ten grandfather clocks for his family members, as I admired
the one in his family room. Earl then told me that I was welcome
to help myself to anything in the kitchen. I grabbed some potato
chips and cheese and returned.
Earl was checking his phone when he suddenly said to me, “I
think you might want to have a drink.” I asked him why, and he
responded, “I think that you’re going to be stuck here for a couple
of days. I just checked the latest weather forecast. The snow will
not be letting up anytime soon.”
So I had the drink. I communicated with family and friends,
letting them know that I was safe. Earl had been in the kitchen,
and he came back into the family room and said, “We’re having
pork chops for dinner. If you don’t like pork chops, I can make
you a steak.” I assured him that pork chops would be great and
that I’m easy to please.
So I had a delicious dinner with the LaGrou family (who
happen to be one of the five founding families of Montreal) and
we talked and shared stories. I told them about my Grandpa
Asklar, who got stuck in a stranger’s house for several days when
he got stranded during the Blizzard of ’77, and Earl told me about
an experience that he had a few years back, when he was stranded
at a neighbor’s house. Apparently, Oakfield has some bad
snowstorms. Earl told me that breakfast, not dinner, was actually
his forté and that his daughters’ friends’ favorite part of sleeping
over at the LaGrou house was the breakfasts that he would make.
“You can have anything you want! Pancakes, French toast,
bacon, sausage, eggs—however you want them… scrambled,
sunny side up, over easy, poached, you name it!” I was shocked at
his hospitality. After dinner, we played board games, and they
treated me like I was a member of their family. One of my friends
texted me and asked if I felt awkward. I responded with an
emphatic “No!” I felt like I was playing games with my own
family. Later on, Earl got me set up comfortably for the night, and
I slept like a baby.
The next morning we had coffee and breakfast, and Earl did
not disappoint. I had bacon, eggs, coffee, toast, and lots of sausage.
It was the best breakfast that I had in months! We checked on the
kitties and Earl opened the garage door. The snow drifts must
have been five feet high. Earl put on layers of clothes and used his
snowblower to clear the driveway. He even went to help
neighbors dig out of their driveways. When he returned, one of
his eyes was nearly frozen shut.
So here I was, on Christmas Eve, stuck in Oakfield, NY. I was
delighted to hear that the LaGrous happened to be big Buffalo
fans. So we prepared to watch the Bills play the Dolphins in a rare
Christmas Eve game. We all donned our Buffalo Bills clothing,
and Pamela made some delicious tacos for the game. It was an
exciting game, and we all yelled in excitement whenever Buffalo
made a great play. I felt like I was watching the game with my
own family.
We had dinner later that evening—stuffed shells and salad. I
spent the rest of the evening talking and texting with family and
friends, and hoping for a Christmas miracle: that the snow would
stop, the roads would be plowed by morning, and I would be able
to go be with my family.
I woke up on Christmas morning and poured myself a cup of
coffee. I looked out the window and noticed that the roads were
clear, with towering snow drifts on each side. I began packing
things into my car. Earl and Pamela soon woke up to have coffee
with me, and they shared some delicious cinnamon buns that one
of their neighbors had made. Earl checked the forecast and assured
me that it was safe to drive. I got everything ready and thanked
them for saving my life, and for being such amazing, gracious,
generous, kind, and hospitable people. I got my kitties situated,
hopped into my car, and began the drive to Niagara Falls.
It was bittersweet leaving Chateaux LaGrou, as Maddie referred
to it; saying goodbye to my “host family” felt like I was leaving a
lovely B&B. But I was anxious to see my own family. On the way,
I passed hundreds of abandoned vehicles, buried in colossal snow
drifts, and I considered several scary scenarios of how my situation
could have gone. I was so lucky and thankful that I pulled into that
driveway in Oakfield, NY. This experience reaffirmed my belief in
the inherent compassion and goodwill of humanity. I am
overwhelmed and delighted by the kindness of strangers.
Note: I made a donation to the Patricia Allen Fund, benefiting
John R. Oishei Children’s Hospital of Buffalo, in honor of the
LaGrou family. It amazes me that people like this exist!
