Snowmen

Heavy snows fell during January and February of 1961. One storm in particular dropped over a foot of snow, and it seemed like it would never melt away.
Billy Hills and I spent the day after trudging through deep drifts, sliding down the ravine to the creek behind Trackie's store. The climb back up was slippery; it was our own Mount Everest, and when we reached the summit we peered out upon the ballfields, now a sea of frozen white.
From our vantage point we imagined ourselves in a foxhole fighting off the human wave attacks of the Chinese in Korea. We fought them off as best we could until our ammo ran out, using snowballs as a last resort before retreating towards the lake.
We would have to cross the widest and deepest point of the lake that day, moving quickly, listening to the ice, hoping it wouldn't crack open and swallow us whole.
Up the hill and into the woods, becoming mountain men tracking game in the dead of winter, our eyes peeled for Indians or bears.
We'd circle round the lake, stopping once to consider making a burrow in a deep drift, but thinking better of it we kept on moving across the stream and through the Madden's yard and up Glenwood towards Walnut and my home.
We'd spend that whole day out in the freezing cold getting wet and red-faced, but we'd never notice because adventure called out and we had to answer.
Woodbury Heights in winter when covered in snow was every boy's fantasy come true.
Snowball fights in the woods and atop Freund's cliff. Sledding down Chestnut Hill or the Jersey Turnpike embankment on the other side of town. The woods around the lake became the Ardennes, and we fought the Germans as our fathers had done only a few years before. Crowds of people skating, and in the back of the lake the ice hockey games would last all day and into the night, someone always eager to take the place of somebody who had to go home.
You come home from a day in the cold all red-cheeks and runny-nosed. You come home and take off sloppy boots and thick socks, your pants are wet and so is the long underwear beneath them. Your thighs are red and your hands are too, and your hair sticks staight up when you pull off your hat.
You're welcomed home with Campbell's chicken noodle soup and a cup of hot chocolate served up by your mom.
You get washed up and into something warm, and retreat to your room for comic books and a warm blanket on your bed, and before you know it you've fallen asleep from all the actions of the day.
Yes,the winter of 1961 was long and it was harsh and it was cold, but it was fun for young boys and adventures years ago.
And always remember: never eat the yellow snow!