My friend Sonny was murdered in Gosnell by a burglar. Next day a
blizzard hit. Ground was a frozen block of ice. After the funeral we
took his body to the cemetery. No one, not even the casket-carriers,
broke through the glazed ice. Pick-axes had been used to open the
grave. His aged mother walked across that treacherous ice. I felt it
was a terrible moment for the family to endure.
One morning at church, I began sliding down a sloped parking lot in an
ice storm. Couldn't get my footing. Every move I made I slid further
away. Ruth yelled for me to stand still. She gathered about ten people
to make a human chain to reel me in.
Coldest day of my life, temp -19°, windchill -57°. Licked my lips as
I walked up to the church. They froze together. Fortunately they
thawed once I entered the building.
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