The best and the worst of the storm

I finally was able to get out of my yard about 5 p.m. Sunday. I can't blame the City of Euclid plows, because I got to see for myself how hard their drivers work.

I wrote yesterday about a minivan that had been abandoned in front of my driveway early on in the storm. It sat there, locked in place, until about noon Sunday, when, on about the third attempt to free it, a couple guys came up and started digging from all sides with shovels.

The truly sad part of this incident is that it appears I missed that a Jeep Wrangler had also been abandoned about 25 yards to the south, on the opposite side of the street. The thick cloud of snow apparently had prevented me from seeing it Saturday night. During the Sunday morning spectacle of trying to free the minivan, I realized the same people owned the Jeep.

I watched from my front windows as the owner of the minivan and a couple guys attempted to free it. First, there was a spinning of tires akin to the machine at an E-Check station. Then, they tried to rock it back and forth. Finally, another Jeep came up and hooked it up with a chain, and the owners tried to push as the Jeep pulled.

No dice.

A little bit later, the guys with the shovels arrived. Within about an hour, the van was gone.

If only that activity had occurred earlier in the morning, when the van's presence caused one of the brighter moments of the storm.

I awoke at 8 a.m. to the sound of spinning tires. Of course, I figured it was the van. I got up to look out the window, and saw one of the more striking things I've encountered...a city plow stuck in the snow, tires spinning wildly.

After a few minutes of spinning, a pickup with a plow attached got to the scene, and they worked together to free the truck.

No dice.

Next, a piece of what I normally would call construction equipment arrived on my street. The backhoe linked a chain to the plow and tried to pull it out. Pull, pull, pull — nothing. They then adjusted the chain to another part of the plow. Pull, pull, pull — nothing.

Then, suddenly, the backhoe drives off. I'm curious. They're just gonna leave the plow stuck on my street? Is this armageddon?

Just as suddenly, the backhoe reappears, from the other direction. It backs up behind the plow truck, hooks up the chain again, and proceeds to yank the plow all the way down the street — through a maze that includes the minivan and the Jeep.

It was impressive driving and creative problem-solving by people working very hard. I'm not sure if they were just starting what would be a very long day, or finishing up after a harrowing night. Either way, I'm grateful for their efforts.

Of course, I'm even more pleased the minivan finally left my view. That enabled the street to finally be cleared so I could finally leave my house.

To the plow drivers, thank you for your hard work and best wishes on a long nap. To the minivan and Jeep drivers, I can only ask, where the heck were you going, anyway?