The Blizzard of ’93 hit while Danny and I huddled in our sleeping bags in the new $120 tent with Bennett and Robert. Ted and Shawn were asleep in the smaller tent. Four-year-old Robert made the discovery.
Thirty minutes before it hit, I got up at 7 am to make a call on nature. The woods were soaked. It had rained all night. I hadn’t slept well, listening for the rain to turn to sleet or snow, and worrying that Danny wasn’t warm enough.
The day before had been been the longest day of my life, I decided. (The longest night was with Ted C. in Little River Canyon.) Packing for our camping trip to the Okefenokee, I had stayed up until 1 am, counting on being able to nap during the 5 hour trip south.