The Blizzard of 1993 started being forecasted a week out by weathermen who could see the huge low forming in the Gulf of Mexico and the cold air coming down from Canada. Usually forecasts change ... but this one did not. It was the making of a monster storm ... and those in the eastern United States were given plenty of heads-up that it was on its way.
On Wednesday as this monster was still gathering steam, I got a call at my home in NC saying my aunt had died in Richmond. We packed and headed to my parents' home on Thursday, a beautiful sunny day that did not give any indication of what was to hit us.
The funeral was Saturday, the day of the blizzard, and we were whalloped in Richmond by 8" of snow followed by thunder and torrential rain. As we drove from the funeral home to the cemetery, snow was piled on the sides of the roadways as thunder boomed and rivers of water ran down the streets.
On Sunday we headed back home to NC to find two feet of snow at our house, electricity out, and schools out for the week. The mountains had been hit with three feet of snow, and a group of Boy Scouts were reported missing. If memory serves me correctly, they were later safely found but the amounts of snow at this time of year, especially in NC, were etched in memories for years to come. It was, indeed, the Blizzard of '93.
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