Sometime around 1955, Watertown, Massachusetts suffered an incredible blizzard. Within Watertown Army Arsenal’s fortress-like walls and elsewhere, snow piled up in banks ten feet high. Most of the Watertown Arsenal’s foundries had sub ground-level loading docks, which filled up even more with soft drifts up to fifteen feet deep.
My friend, Jimmy and I — being true Arctic explorers — happened across a particularly appealing loading dock snow crevice. One dare led to another, and soon I gave way to peer group pressure. I dove, head first and unthinking, into the inviting loading dock snow drift, my outstretched arms striking solid pavement with my feet sticking straight up at least five feet from the surface. A small vertical tunnel marked my wintry passage.
Jimmy laughed at my sudden disappearance. “Boy, that was REALLY stupid!” he shouted, and for once in his life he was right. An hour or so later I was rescued by an equally entertained Watertown Arsenal Fire Department.