New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1915-12-26
The Editor Of The Trihuna.

To the Editor Of The Tribune.
/ Sir, II New York got rain last Monday IN
stead Of snow It has no proper Idea of no"
the raging SHOWS upstate that day beat al
the records Of the blizzard of 1888. Fifteen
thousand men are working at this writing tc
get word over the telephone wires from Corn
wall to New York This letter goes by the
first mail since December 10.
And what story of stoppage OF commu-
nication, privation and actual distress there
| is TO tell Even at this ffty-mlle distance
| from New York each man Is cut of in his
own house and has to dig his own way back
/ 10 civilization. Ones own story therefore
is really ell one has to tell, smplifed little
/ by neighborhood rumors. These last are one
and all bad. They tell Of lonely houses chill
/ ren in want of food, sick people who cannot
| be ministered to. The blizzard Of 1915 found
! he entire state unprepared.
! was caught in a shooting shack on a
mountanside Monday morning started the
light snowfall Throughout the day the
winds began to rise, but not noticeably. The
worst Of II came In the night Tuesday
morning saw impcnetrable masses Of white
/ blown up TO the door. IL was o'clock and
no milk had come from the farmer who
brings II at this hour. climbed through a
back window and sank to my shoulders.
was snowboundl
This condition-so near New York-at frs,
seemed laughable. tried the phone. By q
miracle il was then working as far as the
Village. asked the grocer why my weekly
order had not come the previous day.
! 81 guess you don't know what you're up
against" he suffered Our man got caught
40 beyond you He had to leave the horses
under a bridge and crawl two miles to a
! farmhouse He spent the night there, and
/ has Just 'phoned that he's started digging
back TO the animals. The boss got caught in
| Newburgh No ones in the store but me
| live upstairs You can't get through the
streets down here"
/ remember I told him jestingy that he
was lucky to be camped with all that food.
But /. was no Jest Ny own groceries
were up another mountain. All | had for
breakfast was timed salmon and cheese-my
last supplies Mind you, no water, even, for
.he spring was some distance up a path.
When realized had no wood for the fire
tho woodshed being in its accustomed place,
now invisible-well, went back 70 bed 10
think
With money enough available, I was re
duced suddenly 10 the lowest terms Of living
Already | felt the need Of more breakfast.
| looked at my dog-and-he wagged his tail.
40, wasn't quite primitive man.
| rang up the trusty farmer who owned the
shack and was informed that his son had
started my way two hours before. He was
more concerned for his boy than for me-
natural, but not comforting.
/ Down the log road was no sign Of milk or
man, and the walk from his place took twenty
minutes ordinarily
| | began to realize that there had been a
BLIZZARD
The Gun shone brightly on banks Of snow,
innumerabie as ocean waves, but more sinis-
Ter because still.
II was pretty, too. Far away and below
was the radiant Hudson-e ntieing sight for a
man who dabbles In water colors-but was
not that man. was q hungry mar, facing
sirnlv hun9rinesA