Working in Cleveland in the 70s
Powered by a phenomenon called Lake Affect snow, northern Ohio can transform to a hellish snowscape in mere hours. Winters there aren’t just challenging, they are relentless and unforgiving, and many are etched in my memory.
I went to art school and worked in downtown Cleveland in the seventies. My first job was in the art department at Gallo Displays, and later the advertising department of Gray Drug Store on Euclid Avenue. One my jobs at Gray’s would be to run down several floors to the store itself, grab a particular item, bring it back upstairs and illustrate it for the weekly ad, since there was no digital photography in the seventies. I took a city bus to work because I could read or nap instead of cursing about bad traffic.
Blizzard of 1978
In 1978, one of the worst storms hit Cleveland when a cyclone formed over Ohio on a blustery January day. Only 8 inches of snow fell, but the wind wreaked havoc and created deep snowdrifts.
Gray Drug and hundreds of other businesses closed in the early afternoon. Employees everywhere streamed from the tall downtown buildings and waited in the blowing snow for buses, all of them delayed. I tried to keep my fur-trimmed hood out of my face as I frantically searched for the Broadview Heights line. I sure didn’t want to miss it. Eventually the bus came, but the doors opened to reveal standing room only. I didn’t care. I pushed my way in.
A 45-minute ride home took over two hours. I became close friends with the young woman squished up against me, also newly married and working downtown. After that stressful ride home, Janice and I sat together whenever possible. I imagine everyone on the bus that night became well acquainted with each other. The worst part, aside from needing to pee, was that Broadview Road turned into snow-covered roller coaster. The bus seemed to skate down each hill and then had to struggle, wheels spinning, back up. We all cheered for the driver when we finally reached the top of the last and biggest hill.
When 18°F felt like spring
I also remember one winter when downtown workers endured subzero temperatures with high winds for two or three weeks. People who bravely walked to restaurants, sandwich shops or the bank at lunchtime looked absolutely miserable. Everyone was tightly bundled, their hands clasping jackets at their throats and heads turtled down into their collars. We walked fast, no time for conversation; it was too freaking cold.
Then the sun appeared and the temperature rose to a balmy 18 degrees. That was it, just a mere 18°, but the sun was out! It felt amazing. We were blinded by the sun and delirium. Everyone loosened up, swinging their arms when they walked instead of hunching over to protect themselves from the biting cold. Oh, sure, we still wore hats and gloves, but perfect strangers smiled and waved at one another. 18° felt like springtime.
Give us the sun!
As friend and fellow author Susan Sage says, “Give us a little sunshine and we’re instantly hopeful about spring–even in the dead of winter. Tells us so much about our ability to be hopeful. Probably one of the better aspects of our species.”
I miss the camaraderie of those bus rides and working downtown in a big city. Public transit connects all sorts of people to jobs, education, and other services, regardless of their income. Bus riders share the same space and face the same delays, crowds, and shitty weather. The shared experience creates a sense of equality in navigating city life. I still feel a tug in my heart when I hear the hiss of air brakes.
Snowcacroke
By the way, speaking of bad weather and freak snows, remote Ocracoke Island, NC, the setting for my forthcoming novel, Love and Other Incurable Ailments, was buried in snow last week! Ocracoke is a small fishing village in the southernmost part of the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The only way you can reach the island is by plane or ferry. Of course, the ferries were shut down and the schools were closed. Eight inches of snow created quite an event for the little island!
Photo captured from a video by the Village Craftsman, shared on Facebook
Thank you for visiting.
Linda K. Sienkiewicz is a writer, poet, and artist
Books: In the Context of Love | Gordy and the Ghost Crab | Sleepwalker
New novel, Love and Other Incurable Ailments, coming fall 2026 from Regal House Publishing
Connect with Linda on social media: LinkTree
