When the landscape takes on the appearance of a scene from “Dr. Zhivago,” that’s proof there’s been a heavy snowfall.
Mother’s Nature’s early spring attack on northern New Mexico two weeks ago, justifiably has been called the “storm of the century.” No fewer than three national television networks identified Las Vegas by name, telling the country we were under two feet of snow.
So relentless was the snowfall that it created drifts of several feet. Many weary travelers took advantage of a Red Cross-conducted shelter at the First Baptist Church, and locals pitched in.
That was two weeks ago. And though we hate to say “that was nothing,” that was, well, nothing … compared with the 1973 snowfall that constituted a real crisis: no cell phones and, more importantly, no quick melting as we had this time.
Anyone close to 40 ought to remember the snow that began on March 27 and continued through April 11. Because it came so late in the year, it was unexpected and felled trees, collapsed roofs and left people and cattle stranded.
Editha Bartley, longtime director of the National Weather Reporting Station in Rociada, reported “10 feet in two weeks” back in 1973. “Even private bulldozers got stuck.” The record snowfalls activated the National Guard and highway department, along with various police agencies. Three people with hands-on experience in the Œ73 snowfall are Ray Angel, Gilbert Perea, Emilio Aragon, National Guardsmen attached with Detachment Two of the 3631st Heavy Equipment Maintenance Co.
Lee Smith, then the district general superintendent of the New Mexico State Highway Department, recalls the extra hours and work his agency provided. He added that as crews plowed highways, on their return trip, drivers found the plowed areas covered once again, as if the blades had never touched the pavement.
All agree that the latest storm was minuscule compared to the big one 32 years ago. “This storm didn’t involve having to make roads to people’s houses to rescue them or to feed their cattle,” Perea said. It was an unusual sight, a bevy of M-42 tanks making their way to places like Trujillo, San Geronimo, Wagon Mound, Buena Vista and Anton Chico. “Tracks,” M-42 tanks, are the ultimate in traction, but yet Angel recalls that, driving a tank at midnight, some guardsmen ran into a ditch — completely covered with snow — and buried it. It was days before they retrieved it.
The public reaction to the presence of military tanks, usually reserved for battlefields, was welcoming, as people generally cheered when they saw the M-42s go by, “a sign,” Aragon said, “that we were on the way to rescue someone.”
According to Angel, the storm lasted from March 27 through April 11. Rescue efforts came from trucks, tanks and helicopters and city crews as well. Much of the effort was in freeing large propane-delivery trucks, as many people had stopped burning wood or coal.
Smith recalls that “We had four feet of snow on the level. No one snow was so bad in itself, but we’d have two or three major snowfalls a week.” Perea recalls having helped rescue a pregnant woman near Trujillo and transporting her to a state police vehicle for the trip to Las Vegas. Farmers, unable to get to their mired cattle, relied on the government to drop hay and feed. Angel, then a full-time administrative and supply technician, said, “None of the soldiers ever complained; the restaurants were very cooperative; some of us didn’t get any sleep for 40 hours,” said the former Marine.
Just a few days into the storm, then-Gov. Bruce King declared San Miguel as one of 11 disaster areas, with the Las Vegas epicenter as perhaps the most affected.
At that time, the Greyhound Station was located on Douglas, with several routes daily. After trying to get beyond Mills on Grand, one driver abruptly turned the coach around and declared, “This bus isn’t going anywhere today. This is the worst storm I’ve ever seen.”
Aragon, then a lieutenant, and commander of the Las Vegas unit, still praises the cooperation of his soldiers. He said that all five of the tanks sent from Santa Fe had gasoline leaks, making the missions all that more perilous. “Fortunately, many of our crew were well trained, so we fixed them,” Aragon said. Yet, tank accommodations fall short of the Holiday Inn. One crew, stranded in the Trujillo area, was forced to sleep in the tank. “With all that metal, it gets cold in there,” Aragon said.
In 1973, there were only four highway districts, Smith’s spanning a huge area, including Eagle Nest, Glorieta, and the Colorado and Oklahoma state lines. Smith said, “What used to be Highway and 85 was closed for seven days straight.
Aragon recalls a visit from an Albuquerque newspaper reporter who seemed skeptical about claims of all the snow. The reporter rode with Aragon to the Las Dispensas area. “The sun was out and the day was beautiful, but soon the 6-by-6 he was riding got stuck to the axles, and the reporter had to wade through hundreds of yards of slush and snow,” Aragon said.
That impromptu venture into the wild may have convinced the Duke City city-slicker that northern New Mexico did in fact have lots of snow. However, Aragon never heard from the reporter again. Possibly the reporter doubted whether anyone would even believe the story.
There is something about a crisis that brings our humanity to the surface. In Œ73 and in Œ05, neighbors helped get cars out of driveways and feed animals. Communities sheltered stranded travelers. The need to be neighborly was shorter last week than last century (possibly because of global warming?), since the snow melted faster this time, and subsequent snows didn’t accumulate.
Nevertheless, these storms show us what we’re made of … goodness, charity and unselfishness.