Looking Back: Wild Spring Vermont Snowstorm, April 27-28, 2010, And A Fateful Decision

Snow covered lilacs in Burlington, Vermont during a 
record late heavy snowstorm in April, 2010.

Heres a mostly forgotten past weather event that really made a big impression.

The April, 2010  late season snowstorm on this post makes the snows we've had this month look like the lightest of flurries.

The snow on April 27-28, 2010 itself during that caused a lot of problems, as you might imagine. But the storm is especially memorable to me because of a decision I made during that weather event.  

Many people make fateful decisions during storms. Some work out quite well, some disastrously. The decision I made in that April snowstorm had little to do with the actual weather that day. I didn't fall victim to the storm, but I guess I fell in another sort of way.  

Here's what happened: 

Spring, 2010 had been remarkably warm in Vermont.  

 March that year was the 6th warmest on record. In early April, temperatures soared to record highs of around 80 degrees. That April turned out to be the third warmest on record in Burlington.  Leaves and flowers blossomed weeks ahead of normal. By April 26, neighborhoods and lowland forests in northern Vermont were leafy and green, like mid-May usually is. 

But on April 27, 2010, a cold, wet storm struck the Northeast. During the day wet snow dusted lilac and rhododendron blooms in Burlington and surrounding areas.  A few sloppy inches piled up by late afternoon in a few locations. 

Then a decision entered the picture.  

By the evening of April 27, things, at least to me, were looking ominous for the northern Champlain Valley. It would get just a bit colder as the sun set, and heavier snow was moving in. I knew that Interstate 89 northbound up toward Georgia and St. Albans where I live would get treacherous. There would be falling branches and power lines in the heavy snow.

I worked at the Burlington Free Press at the time, and got off for day around 6 p.m. I was anxious to get home ahead of the worst of the storm. At that hour, I would make it before things got too rough on the roads. 

A leafed out, nearly blooming lilac bush, which had
been 12 feet tall, lies smushed to the ground during the
epic late April, 2010 snowstorm in St Albans,
Vermont. The lilac bush made a quick recovery and
is thriving to this day. 

Then my phone rang. It was Jeff. We'd been dating for a few months by then. I liked Jeff's company. He was smart and funny, but I had no commitments. 

 I wasn't ready for anything special. I even told him he wasn't really my type.  I guess I said that to keep my heart frozen, to protect myself from, I don't know what. 

Anyway. Jeff was on the phone. He'd just returned home from work to his South Burlington condo and found that his elderly, beloved cocker spaniel Rocky had died during the day in his living room.  Jeff needed somebody to be with him in that moment. 

So yeah, I wanted to get home ahead of the storm, but this to my mind was much more important. The decision was made. "I'll be right over," I quickly told Jeff.

I arrived and gave Jeff a long hug. Rocky was peacefully passed away in the middle of the living room rug.  He was posed as if he was running. Which would be the first time in years for that old, arthritic sweetheart. Rocky's head was posed looking slightly upward. It all seemed a picture of the moment when Rocky was called to cross that famous rainbow bridge.

Jeff talked about Rocky's life, how he loved to romp on the beach in Rhode Island and what a friend that pup had been. Jeff and I shed tears, laughed a little. I felt my heart melting as I took in what a warm, compassionate, wise man I was with. 

It was kind of like that old Grinch cartoon, where in the end, his heart got three times bigger, breaking the frame of the X-Ray picture. 

Jeff called his kind mother to tell her the sad news, and she managed to make him feel a little better, like all good mothers do. After that, Jeff said he was ready to be alone for the night

I drove home, it must have after 10 p.m. Sure enough, by then,  I encountered a real mess heading north once I got past Milton.  Interstate 89 was practically impassable, with squiggly tire ruts trailing in the deep wet snow on the highway .

Trees bent menacingly  over the edge of the ledges along the highway, ready to snap and fall on passing vehicles below.  St. Albans was an obstacle course of fallen branches and wires.  

Damage from a severe snowstorm in late April, 2010 in
St. Albans, Vermont.  Heavy wet snow fell on
trees that were already leafing out, causing serious damage.

I got to my house and the trees over the driveway were sagging so much they scraped against the roof of my truck. Normally those branches would have been about eight feet above the top of my truck.

In front of the house, the 12-foot tall lilac tree was smushed to the ground. The daffodils that had been blooming were nowhere to be found. 

I went to bed in the cold house with no power, and listened to the branches breaking all night in the woods in back of the house. Through all that, my mind wasn't on the storm at all. 

My mind was completely on Jeff.

I awoke next morning to a chaotic, snow plastered scene. Trees around my house bowed and sagged under the snow in defeat. Trees and branches were down throughout town. There was a full 15 inches of snow on my deck, making it the biggest storm of the winter. 

This was a Wednesday morning. The annual St. Albans Maple Festival was set to start in two days. And the city was littered with fallen trees, branches, wires, with smushed cars beneath all that. 

This being late April, the snow began to melt by mid-morning. Somehow, the city of St. Albans got things cleaned up just enough to pull off the festival. 

It was the most extreme late spring snowstorm I'd ever seen, but nature is resilient. That 12 foot lilac that was smushed to the ground in my yard popped back up later in the day. Only one of about two dozen main branches on it had broken. 

Within a couple days, the daffodils re-emerged and quickly returned to their sunny, happy selves, as if nothing had happened.

By that Sunday, the snow was gone, the temperature was back up to 80 degrees and the air was humid. 

Nothing had changed and everything had changed. The cycle of a Vermont spring continued on as usual. 

So what happened with Jeff? He and I will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary this coming August.

VIDEO 

I put together a video, mostly photos of that April, 2010 storm in St. Albans, you can see it below. As always, to best view the video, click on the YouTube logo and then the arrow.

f you don't the video or the image of it on your device, click on this hyperlink to view.  Be patient. The video quality isn't great at the start of the video, but the photos are much better.