Submitted December 28, 2002 by Jean Black
During the infamous blizzard of 1962, our home near the Union Street exit of I 95 in Bangor became a way station. Our family often recalled the relentless storm and how two stranded motorists found their way to a safe haven.
That day between Christmas and New Year's, the snow had been accumulating very fast. The interstate became littered with cars stopped in their tracks, unable to go another foot. Drivers and passengers climbed out, abandoned their cars, and trudgedinto the storm toward the nearest exits.
Such was the case of the young couple looking like frozen snowmen who appeared at our front door. My mother, always kind and generous to those in need, ushered them in to the warmth of our home out of the fierce storm. Warming with hot coffee, the young college professor anxiously explained that he and his wife had been traveling south from Orono to see theirfamilies during the University of Maine semester break. Their car had become hopelessly stuck and they had just walked several hundred feet to the nearest house. They appeared cold and exhausted, and the young professor looked very worried indeed.
For as we could see, his young wife, looking like a frozen popsicle, was around seven months pregnant!
During that storm, there was no going anywhere. The snow was coming down too fast and drifting too high. The young couple spent the night and most of the next day with us. I don't remember how they managed to get underway, only that they eventually did. And after a week or so, my mother received a thank you card, letter, and box of candy, along with a carton of cigarettes.
We often wondered about them and what they told their baby about their adventure during the storm of '62 .
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