Waking up to a blanket of snow yesterday sent me down memory lane. Folks always act surprised when we get snow in North Carolina. Not me. Maybe it’s because of the years I spent in Canton, where snow is more common. But I still remember plenty of snow days in Wilmington and Fayetteville, too. Not nearly as many, but enough to rack up a few good memories.
Snow was so rare in Wilmington that Mama wouldn’t let me drive if we got so much as a skiff. When I was about 17, I got fired from a new job because she wouldn’t let me go to work. I didn’t mind until later that night when I wanted to go out with my friends.
Driving in the snow was no big deal to me. I drove every time I visited Mamaw and Papaw in the mountains. Daddy made sure of it. As soon as I got my learner’s permit, he made me drive anytime it snowed. He wanted to be sure I could handle it so he wouldn’t have to worry. It’s a skill I’m grateful for.
At the time, I was mad as fire at Mama for being so strict, but now I laugh at the irony. She wasn’t worried about my driving—she was worried about everyone else. She knew plenty of folks had no business being on the roads in the snow. That’s how good mamas think. And now that I’ve got two young’uns of my own, I completely understand.
A couple of years later, I experienced my first snow day in Fayetteville. Brandon’s friends grabbed a sled and a rope, tied it to the back of a Chevy truck, and pulled us across a snowy field off Raeford Road. It was pure, reckless fun—the kind of memory that sticks with you forever.
But the most memorable snow days came when the girls entered the picture. Belle was born during a snowstorm in Waynesville in 2008. Not long after, we moved back to Fayetteville, where snow days came every two to four years.
When the girls were little, every snowfall was an event. They wanted snowball fights, snow angels, and snowmen—sometimes all in the same afternoon. And while they don’t rush outside as much these days, there’s one tradition they never let me skip: making snow cream.
No matter how old they get, when winter weather makes its way to us, they expect Mama to pull out the big mixing bowl and whip up a batch. And of course, I’m always happy to oblige. Some traditions are worth keeping, no matter how old your babies get.
What about you? What are your favorite memories of NC snow days?
Trampling around the woods deep in the country when the only thing one would hear would be the crunching of the snow beneath my old shoes was one of my favorite memories and just experiencing the peace and tranquility of it all. I felt as if nature, God, and I were one!. I would love to go back to that moment in time!