Baby, it’s cold outside….

Yes, I know you’re all bored silly, but it is, after all, the 50th anniversary(?) of the Great Chicago Blizzard of 1967, which shut down an entire city and the surrounding counties of people who commuted from the suburbs to work in Chicago.

What does this have to do with military stuff?  Well, this is no shit. I was not in Chicago just then.  That was yet to come. But the weather guessers back then based their forecasts on the chinook, the warm spell prior to January 26th, which had raised the temperature to a springlike 65F.  They knew a cold snap was coming, but they predicted 1/2″ of snow for Chicago and the surrounding suburbs.

The actual snowfall totaled 22.5″, not including drifted snow as happened in Boston a couple of years ago. Remember that one? This link is to a video of the aftermath of that storm.  I hope it works for you.

My home town was 250 miles south of Chicago. I was trying to persuade my parents to let me go to Chicago and look for a job there, because I knew they had friends there. They kept saying “N-O, no”.  So I went and talked to the Navy recruiter.  I liked the WAVES’ uniforms, navy midnight blue with a white blouse and a black tie. I liked the bucket hats, too.  I didn’t like the WMs hats, and the WAFs uniforms were a sort of wimpy blue. No offense meant, ChipNASA. The WACs and the WMS offered green, but I liked dark blue. Don’t ask me why, but when I found later, reading John Molloy’s ‘Dress For Success’ for women, he said a navy blue suit with a white blouse is an authority symbol.  (Oh, stop laughing.) So, yes, I went with the wardrobe.   The Navy also offered more for girls to do than the WMs and the WACs did at the time. I know that’s all changed now.  I’d have better choices.

The southern edge of that storm hit my hometown with snow followed by sleet, which is now called freezing rain, and high winds. The topsy-turvy phone pole in that photo was only one of many, snapped off at ground level.  Wind force must have been fierce, because there was little to stop the flow, despite the rows of hedge apples planted as windbreaks in the 1930s.  I went out with my camera to get a bunch of shots, thinking that it might help at the recruiting station if I had a few recent slides to show the recruiter.  That was before ASVAB testing.  He just gave me basic English and arithmetic skills testing and told me to come back on my birthday, gave me some forms to fill out with where I’d been. My mother was meticulous about keeping addresses; her address book on our travels went back to where my father got his PhD in Speech and Theater, the University of Denver.

I didn’t say a word to Mommy and Daddy, but dammit, I was going to get a job and leave, whether they approved of it or not!  Yes, I had just turned 21, so that makes me an old fogey now, but dadburnit, I was old enough to make up my mind what I wanted to do with my life, wasn’t I? I had 3 semesters of boring required classes behind me and I was bored and restless, and joining the Navy offered me a chance to do ‘my own thing’.  I could finish college later, and I did, in barely two years, by carrying extra hours and taking summer school classes. I crammed in every credit I could get.  But that was after my first hitch, and that’s another story.

So, like an idiot, I went back to the recruiter’s office.   The streets were pretty well cleared out when I went back and signed on the dotted line.  The recruiter shook my hand, gave me those forms, said something like ‘Welcome aboard, you go to Chicago in March’, and I went home.  My mother was fixing dinner, so I set the table. While we’re all sitting there, my mother gives me a card, because it was my birthday.  I said ‘Thanks, Mom,” opened it and there’s a check.  She never bought presents.  My brother was sitting across from me. He was still in high school and hadn’t gotten his draft notice yet. My sister had already gone off to grad school months earlier.

When my mother asked me what I’d done today, I said, “Well, I have a job.”

“Really? Well, what was it?”

“Well, I’ve joined the Navy.”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that.”

“Oh, yes, I do.”

I had never seen my mother truly peeved until then.  When she said she wouldn’t give her permission for me to do that, I said I didn’t need it.  So help me, Hannah, she drew a blank when I asked if she knew how old I was. Come on, Mom, you were in the delivery room gasping and squawking. What year was that? She was just gobsmacked.

Meantime, my father said loudly “I think it’s a good idea.” A little later, he said he was proud of me.

A month later, in March, I was at the Navy Recruiting Station in Chicago, which used to be on South Clark Street, with four other girls who had also joined the WAVES.  We had to wait until March for our company to form.  The WAVES recruiter, I think a PN1, drove us to the airport and put us on the plane for RTC(W) Bainbridge, MD.

I never looked back.

Category: Navy