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The northern half of Arkansas is mountainous. Snow is a rarity or at least a snow of significant inches. When it does arrive, it brings the world of the mountain people to a standstill. In 1978 a record-breaking snowstorm brought these people to a halt and kept them there for several days. This is one of many stories told about the 1978 Christmas snow storm.
The winter of 1978 was one of the most memorable winters I can remember. Arkansas is not one of the states where snow is common around Christmas time. This year was an exception. The snow started four days before the holiday was to arrive. At first it came as a powdery cover over the yard. By the morning of the next day it had turned into a sticky white whirling mass. Everything was covered, especially the trees and power lines. Where we lived, the power lines came down from the big mountain behind our little farm. We were used to the power outages that occurred when the wind blew strong enough to bring a tree limb down across the lines. Our electric company was quick in responding to the outage call. But this winter, the ice had wreaked havoc throughout the mountainous area. The electricity was off and it would not be back on for some time. Our house was heated with electricity and my cookstove was electric. My children were in a panic. No television, no radio, no lights, and mama couldn't cook. Desperation was in their voices when they pleaded with me to do something. Laughing, I quickly began to lay wood in the fireplace. We only used the fireplace, more or less, for that cozy effect it gave us at night. Now I thanked God for giving us the foresight of having it built. I assured the kids that everything was going to be fine. I had been raised in these mountains and taught by experienced teachers on how to make do. I never had a television or all the electronic toys that kids of today have. Instead I used my imagination and whatever I had on hand to entertain myself. After placing the children on pallets of patchwork quilts before the fire, I proceeded to tell them stories about my childhood. As I spoke, I related to them how we were going to make it without electricity. The fireplace was going to be the center of our existence.
The copyright of the article AN ARKANSAS CHRISTMAS in Arkansas is owned by Bertha Sutliff. Permission to republish AN ARKANSAS CHRISTMAS in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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