KYLE, S.D.--That last day of work before Christmas is always so long. Plans have generally been made for family gatherings. Many of those plans involve travel of some distance. Many people leave for their destinations as soon as that last hour goes by on the time clock.
For employees of Oglala Lakota College, Christmas vacation started just a bit early. The early morning had started with 40 degree weather, nice enough to run errands outside with just a heavy shirt on. By late morning, however, rain was falling and the wind was starting to be breezy. By noon, temperatures had fallen to downright cold, and the wind strength had risen. By 1:30, employees had added the weather to their list of concerns for the holiday.
Finally, at 2, the word came: campus closed, head for home. As employees exited to cars, breaths were whipped from mouths. Merry Christmas wishes were spread to the four directions, bypassing the intended recipient.
Many drivers headed for Rapid City, S.D., and the Lakota Nations Invitational [1] sports event and educational seminars. Wind tugged at cars pulling them to opposite lanes or pushing them back to where they had come from. At about midway to Rapid City, the snowfall picked up and a blizzard raged around the drivers. Visibility shrank until not even the front end of the car could be seen. Drivers felt that they were driving in cotton.
Traffic slowed to 15 mph, and many drivers wanted to stop but that is a choice that often leads to tragedy with cars hitting other cars from behind and piling up. Only small instances of ability to see the white line at the highway's edge kept the long line of cars within their lanes. Oncoming traffic, with blinkers flashing, could only be seen when they were within about 10 feet. Commercial truck drivers had no choice but to pull to the side and stop, for the few feet higher that they sat in their cabs gave them no ability to see any part of the road.
Three and a half hours later and some 75 miles down the road the outskirts of Rapid City were reached. The closer to the Black Hills the caravan came, the less snow but still perilous winds existed. Only then did the iron-tight grip on the steering wheel loosen and blood circulation return to whitened fingers and knuckles.
For the drivers of that afternoon. "Merry Christmas" may very well have taken on a new meaning. They are still here to celebrate it.
Links:
[1] http://www.rapidcityjournal.com/articles/2007/12/18/news/local/doc476719a5bf2ad415586580.txt