March 4, 1966 Blizzard

The winter of early 1966 was the third coldest year of the century. January of 1966 tied January, 1875 for the coldest month since records were kept at Red River. In a previous blog of mine I described how in February of 1966, Winnipeg reached -49F the lowest February temperature ever recorded and the second coldest day ever. Winnipeg did not see the temperature go above zero for 90 days. But up until then the city was without much snow.

If you are over 50 years of age you might recall the blizzard of 1966, or I should say, "The Blizzard of 1966!" as it became a benchmark for blizzards to be compared to. It happened on March 4, which was a Friday and it shut down Winnipeg like it had never been shut down before. Buses stopped running. Snowmobiles took nurses and doctors to work and thousands of people were stuck downtown and slept overnight at Eaton’s and the Bay.

That Friday morning I came down from my morning ritual of getting ready to go teach my 6th grade class at St. Alphonsus School. My brother and I both had moved in with my parents paying them room and board to help them make the transition from farm life to city life. They had spent their whole lives on the farm. My dad despite being a man of many talents was only able to find a low paying job as he only had a 6th grade and my mom was a stay at home person as she had minimal English, although she could read, write, and speak Ukrainian and Polish fluently. As I sat down at the table for the delicious breakfast my mom had prepared for me, I noticed my dad and my brother dawdling over their coffee.

"You guys are running a bit late this morning," I commented as I dug into my eggs and toast. They looked at me and both just nodded. There wasn't much conversation although I did note that it seemed kind of windy outside.

My brother agreed and said, "Yes, it is a bit windy."

I put on my coat and gloves, grabbed my briefcase, and headed for the backdoor to the backyard where the cars were parked. I told them in passing that some of us had to work for a living.

I went down 4 steps to the landing, turned on the outside light because at 7:30 a.m. it was still dark out there. I opened the backdoor only to discover a 4 foot high snow drift blocking my way. As I looked over the drift, all I could see were 2 radio antennas sticking up out of the deep snow. The cars were completely buried and there appeared to be a fierce snowstorm in progress.

I closed the door, made my way back into the house, shedding my coat and gloves, and muttering "Blizzard!" under my breath as I passed my brother and my dad who were still seated at the table. By this time I realized I had been set up. They smiled as we all started to listen to Peter Warren on CJOB.

Snow had started to fall after midnight on Thursday and despite the heavy snow, on Friday morning, March 4, many people still went to work. But by mid-morning the streets became impassable.

The buses were called in by 11:00 am.

Schools closed for the Friday and the following Monday as did stores, restaurants and theatres. The big storm piled up 14.6 inches (almost 37 cm)  and was driven by winds gusting up to 70 miles mph (almost 115 kmph) . This was the worst winter storm since March 1902.

Mayor Juba had been awakened by a CJOB reporter, probably Mr. Warren, and told of the blizzard. He was able to make his way to City Hall in his big Cadillac. He set up an emergency headquarters. But by afternoon city hall had also become a shelter for people that could not make their way home.

The Chief of Police, Mr. George Blow, urged people to stay off the streets. Snowmobiles which were legally not allowed to drive within the city limits were offered by volunteer owners to the police.

Other volunteers were granted permission to operate their own snowmobiles to take people to hospital and to deliver drugs to patients. CB radios were used for the first time to create an emergency communications network. The CBC radio station became part of the emergency civil defense network. Unable to get home, CBC staff stayed at the Mall hotel for the night.

Because the buses had been pulled off the streets, many people who could not walk home were stuck wherever they were. Thousands of people were stranded at City Hall and at stores like Eaton’s and the Bay, both on Portage Avenue. It was reported that 1600 people were stranded at the two stores. Eaton’s looked after 700 of its own staff and 400 customers. The women slept on the 9th floor and the men on the 7th.

By evening, except for the emergency snowmobiles, the city was snowed in.

Eight foot high drifts were reported in many places and later during the cleanup snow plows created 12 foot high walls of snow along some of the major routes. Hundreds of cars were reported stranded on the TransCanada Highway. The Grain Exchange did not open for the first time in its 61 year history.

But on this Friday night friends of ours who lived in the Hillsboro House, a huge 8 story upscale apartment block which catered to a younger group of professionals and which was located behind Rae and Jerry's Steakhouse, had phoned to say that there was a huge party in progress with many of the snowbound tenants drifting from suite to suite. We were asked to come but only if we had any liquid refreshments.

We both put on our heavy jackets and mitts and toques and left our house, my brother on his alpine skis, and me on snowshoes. I was also pulling a toboggan. We were headed for the Fox and Hound Inn which at the time of the storm was called the St. James Hotel whose beer vendor had remained open because he couldn’t get home. It was a mile of skiing and snow-shoeing there. The storm was easing up by now and a stillness enveloped the city. There were no cars, trucks, buses or snow plows moving. The silence was broken only by the sounds our movement over the snow, the abating wind, and the occasional whine of a snowmobile in the distance.

When we got to the hotel, I bought 6 boxes of 24 beers in each. I felt that that was the maximum load we could pull and still make it to the party. It was “tough sledding”. It was a mile back to the party. We were pretty tired when we got there. We buzzed our friend’s apartment and were immediately buzzed in. My brother went up while I stayed to guard our cargo.

He came back with a slew of people to help carry the beer and toboggan to the party. We received such a heroes’ welcome that for a while I felt like we were going to be hoisted on their shoulders and paraded from suite to suite.

A collection was taken and I received more than double what I had spent. I protested to no avail that this was way too much. The consensus from the crowd was that these liquid refreshments which had been gained through hard work and on a night that really wasn’t pleasant to go out in were worth their weight in gold. The party continued with music, singing, dancing, sharing of stories, food, and beverages.

When my brother and I finally got home early Sunday morning, all we could say was, “Wasn’t that a party?!!!!”