Get ready,

here it comes again. Winter in Georgia is unlike any other time in the

South. It makes already bad drivers lose all sense of composure, compassion,

and direction. It's a time that one four-letter word strikes terror in

the minds of all commuters. Just mentioning the word makes hearts of meteorologists

beat faster and kids scream for joy.

Our good friends

from the Great-White-North laugh at us Southerners and how we react when

the S-word is mentioned. Yes, there's a chance for snow in the forecast,

and school may be cancelled.

Sometime this

winter, you're bound to hear from your local news anchors, "Breaking

news... a snow flake has just been spotted in North Georgia! We'll have

film and live coverage at six from our teams on the ground and in the

air. Our ground team will show you cars sliding backward down hills while

our team in the sky-copter shows you live shots of snow falling! If it

doesn't snow here, we'll go live to some other state and show you snow

falling there. Just stay tuned to your all news and severe weather channel

for updated information on school closings at 11."

Upon hearing

the news, children cheer and start to dress for the forthcoming snowball

fights. Parents, on the other hand, cringe and dress to make that mad

dash to the nearest grocery store.

Parents get

prepared for snow days somewhat differently than kids. When the S- word

is mentioned here in the South, adults do two things. First, they immediately

lose any ability they had to drive which, if you've lived here in the

South for any length of time, you know is minimal at best. Second, they

drive to the nearest grocery store to stock up on milk and bread. Why?

Has your mom ever cooked you milk toast? Why not stock up on something

that you'll actually need if you're gonna be trapped behind mounds of

snow for days on end ­ like pizza and adult beverages.

Parents react

logically to a forthcoming snow storm. They stock up on fire wood incase

the house loses power. They check the car to make sure it's winterized

and bring the animals in if the temperature goes below twenty-five degrees.

Kids ... well,

kids get prepared for snow days somewhat differently than parents. Growing

up, anytime the S-word was mentioned in the forecast, the Kid Network

went into action in our neighborhood and the phone calls began. Tattle-Tale

Tina lived on the south end of town and Blabber-Mouth Betsey on the north

end. Between the two of them, not a single snow flake could fall without

them calling all the other kids in the network and giving a flake by flake

report.

January 5,

1972 was the official start of the Kid Network. My brothers remember that

date 'cause that's the date of the great snowball fight. I, on the other

hand have been reminded of that day each time I look into a mirror.

The morning

of Jan. 4, the Kid Network began reporting light snow north of town. We

started to hope. By nine that night, our prayers had been answered; the

Kid Network reported two inches of dry snow on the ground ­ perfect

for making snowballs. Oh yeah, and school had been canceled for the coming

day! With the good news from the network, us boys started to get ready

for the next day's battle. We used the network to divide the neighborhood

into two teams of twenty and devise strategies. Twin Brother Mark, Neighbor

Thomas, Goofy Steve and I would lead the team from Flamingo Drive. Big

Brother James, Older Brother Richard, and Down-the-Street Bully Brad would

lead the team from Gloucester Street.

The next morning

we prepared to do battle in the snow. Team Flamingo's strategy was brilliant;

we would simply outlast Team Gloucester. We put on two pairs of underwear,

two pairs of blue jeans, two short sleeve shirts, one long shirt, a ski

mask, and coat. Then we pulled on two pairs of socks and wrapped our feet

in plastic trash bags before pulling on shoes. (The trash bags made our

feet waterproof.)

We were warm

and ready for the battle. We couldn't move too fast, but we were ready.

Come to find out so was Team Gloucester ­ they had spies! Seems The

Sister was secretly on Team Gloucester and found out about our battle

plan. She told Blabber-Mouth Betsey and before the first snowball was

thrown, our plan was known by the entire Gloucester Team.

The Great Snow

Ball Fight of '72 took place by the Old Magnolia tree down from the school.

Team Gloucester took the low ground; Team Flamingo took the high. As we

ran (walked) down the hill throwing snowballs, Team Gloucester ran up

the hill deflecting everyone one of them ­ with the metal trash can

lids they all used as shields. We tried to turn and run for cover, but

with all our clothes on our run was a mere walk. Many of Team Flamingo

perished on that snowball battlefield that day. I came away with four

stitches just above my chin. Seems Big Brother James thought it was a

good idea to hide a rock inside one of his snowballs.

It's true that

the sighting of a single snow flake can create mass panic in the streets

and bring this town to a screeching halt. Our friends from the Great-White-North

don't venture out though. Staying home, watching the snow fall, they laugh

at us. They're not afraid of the S word and can traverse quite well with

mounds of it all over the streets. You don't see them cleaning out the

neighborhood grocery store of milk or bread, and for good reason. They

don't like milk toast.

No, our friends

from the North stay home and don't venture out 'cause they're scared to

death of how Southerners drive when there's a single snow flake on the

ground. I'll also stay home when it snows, and miss out on all that yummy

milk toast. But that's okay, least I'll have sweet tea, and it sure stays

cold in a bank of freshly dropped snow.

[Rick Ryckeley

is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services.

He can be reached at [email protected].]