Survival on the Hill: The Milk Can Mission

What a winter we had back in 1960. So much snow fell in December and January that it made the road behind the barn leading down to the lower field great for tobogganing on. The snow began once again at the beginning of February. One Saturday morning, the weather started with light snow combined with a mixture of drizzle and then freezing drizzle, but no large amounts were accumulating. However, when we got up on Sunday, it had turned to straight snow, which was piling up quickly. The snow was wet and heavy, and the high winds accompanying the snowstorm caused drifting and blizzard-like conditions.

Roads soon became impassable, keeping snowplows busy trying to clear the drifts. Monday morning school closures were widespread. Many areas reported power outages, but we still had ours. We listened to the radio as the announcer stated the following… “Nova Scotia experienced dangerous winter conditions over the weekend, resulting in snow accumulation in many regions, bringing parts of the province to a halt. This was one of the heaviest snowfalls in 20 years for the Maritimes, caused by an unusual stationary system that affected the area.”

By late Monday afternoon, the storm had tapered off, and the digging out began. Dad used a wide shovel for breaking up the snow and pushing it to the edge of the driveway where it had not drifted. My brother and I used smaller shovels to scoop out what we could. Back then there were no snow blowers, so we relied on old-fashioned shovelling to clear the snow from the driveway. Even though the wet snow was heavy, and a back-breaking job for Dad, he told us we still had to get the snowdrift cleared out at the end of the driveway. “Can’t let it sit overnight, he said, as the freezing temperatures will turn this wet snow into a hard-packed glacier.” Well, I didn’t really think it would be a huge glacier, but I understood what he meant. In other words, it would not be easy to move and would likely have to be chopped out. So, after supper we got bundled up once again and went out to help Dad finish clearing the driveway. Schools were closed again on Tuesday, as the plows had not yet cleared all the country roads.

By Wednesday, the roads were cleared, schools were opened and Dad could drive into town to go to work. While we didn’t walk both ways uphill to school in raging blizzards like our parents claimed they had, we seldom had school cancellations unless the snow had started early the night before and was deep by early morning. A school bus picked us up at the end of our driveway, and our bus driver slowly maneuvered his way to our school. Of course, unlike today’s kids, we weren’t dressed in shorts and sneakers in the middle of winter. Our mothers made certain we were severely over-dressed and prepared for any winter weather we would encounter before they let us out the door each day.

February and March were extremely cold, and more snow fell, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Shortly after we got home from school on that snowy Friday, Mother shouted up to us, “Don’t turn on the taps in the bathroom, and don’t flush the toilet!” We came down the stairs to find a very distressed mother. It would be at least another hour before Dad was due home from work, and Mom was fit to be tied. She had peeled the potatoes and vegetables for supper, but when she went to put water in the pot, all she got was a sputtering tap that was more air than water. She had never experienced anything like this before, but she knew something was seriously wrong. In disbelief, she tried one more time. As we stood beside her, she turned the tap on once more, but nothing came out. She quickly turned the tap off and went over to sit at the table.

All was silent. We looked at each other and then looked over at Mother, who appeared to be deep in thought. She then raised her head, looked over at us, and said, “If I give each of you a milk can from the basement, would you be able to put them on your toboggan, coast down the hill, then get over to the spring, and bring me home some water?”

Well, that sounded like fun. We quickly got into our winter clothes, and minutes later we were coasting down the hill as the snow continued to fall. We hauled our toboggans over to the spring, and with the dipper Mom had given us, we were able to dip spring water into each of our milk cans. I can’t remember just how much water was in them, perhaps each can was half full. But then came the chore of hauling the toboggan and the water back up the hill, each step became slower as the snow was mounting up, but we finally reached the top. As we hauled our toboggans over to the house. Mother was at the door waiting for us, arms wide open to give us a big hug for doing that for her. Our toboggans were put back in the outer kitchen, and we took off our toques, mittens, snow pants, jackets, and boots and sat close to the stove to get warmed up. The potatoes and vegetables were now cooking on top of the stove, and a pot roast was roasting in the oven. At least we’d have a tasty supper when Dad got home.

Dad was a bit later than usual getting home that night because of the snow-clogged roads. When he entered the kitchen, he was met with such a look on Mom’s face that he immediately sensed something had happened. She gave him time to take off his boots and hang his jacket up, and as he turned from the kitchen closet he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Before Mother could tell him, I blurted out, “We don’t have any water. Mom told us not to turn on the bathroom taps and not to flush the toilet.” I don’t remember everything that took place following my announcement, but Dad rushed down to the basement where the water pump was. Apparently, our well had gone dry. For the next few weeks, Dad hauled barrels of water from the artesian well down in the village so Mother could do laundry, and we could have our baths before bedtime. Every day, my brother and I continued to haul spring water home, used for drinking and cooking. It was springtime before the well had water in it again, and from then on, we had a greater appreciation for the water that came from the tap.