RIVER CITY JOURNAL: DEAR READERS: I THINK I MIGHT HAVE SOME TEMPORARY RELIEF

Sometimes it's better not to do what everyone else is doing: talking about the ... well, you know.

The coldest I've ever been -- at least as far as I can remember -- was the winter in the early 1980s when we were living in Maryville, Mo., and it snowed 20 inches while we were out of town.

We drove home from Kansas City north on U.S. 71, which becomes a two-lane highway just north of Savannah, Mo. Being a north-south highway, the winter wind sweeps new snow into drifts as tall as three-story buildings as the road dips and rises over the rolling, mostly treeless farmland.

Fortunately for us, we didn't have to drive through the drifts, but the snow plows had only opened one lane, which meant traffic in both directions had to use the same lane.

We made it to Maryville and found that for the first time ever a snow plow had gone done the side street that led to our driveway. Between what the snow plow had pushed into our yard and the normal drifts, the snow must have been close to 10 feet deep in front of our garage door. The driveway went from street level down a curving slope to the basement garage, and that low spot was completely filled with fresh snow.

Even next to the street the snow was plenty deep. My wife had been holding our younger son on her lap. I said we might as well get out here and try to make it to the deck. She put Brendan out the car door -- and he completely disappeared into the snow. He was quickly located, and we finally made it to the back door off the deck with snow swirling all around us.

I knew there was no way to drive into our garage without removing the snow, and I knew I couldn't leave the car on the street if I wanted to drive it again before the spring thaw. By this time it was about 4 degrees below zero.

Ordinarily, I am not one to do foolish things. But for some reason I decided to shovel the snow out of the driveway and get the car into the garage.

Using a standard snow shovel, I started at the top and worked my way down. At first the snow was about two feet deep where it had drifted at the top of the driveway. But as I worked down the curve, it got deeper and deeper. Pretty soon, I was flinging snow way above my head and hoping the sides of the one-lane canyon I was creating wouldn't cave in.

When I shovel snow, I tend to get pretty warm. But the temperature kept falling lower and lower. I noticed I wasn't getting overheated like usual, and I kept throwing the snow out of the driveway.

A couple of hours later, the shovel banged into the garage door. I managed to get enough snow away from the garage that I could safely open the door without an avalanche into the basement. What a relief to finally get the car inside and the door closed.

At that point I didn't care if we got snowbound. I figured somebody with a snowmobile would bring us food if we ran out. I was so cold, and all I wanted to do was restore some feeling in my fingers and toes. We checked the thermometer: 21 degrees below zero.

I was so cold I thought I would never be warm again. Little did I know that I would be even colder in a few minutes.

Even though the garage was in the basement, it was not heated. The other half of the basement was finished and heated, but not the garage. Water pipes to the bathrooms crossed the ceiling of the garage.

Sure enough, when we were ready to go to bed, there was no water running in the bathrooms.

I took my wife's hair dryer to the basement to thaw the pipes. On previous occasions when the pipes had frozen, a few minutes of warm air from the dryer did the trick.

While standing on a short stool and shivering even though I had on a parka, I held the nozzle of the hair dryer to the pipes and waited for the water to start flowing again.

Unfortunately, the pipes were not only frozen, they had burst. As soon as the ice melted, the water started spewing everywhere. All over the basement. All over the cars. All over my tools and work bench.

And all over me.

Do you know how long it takes spewing water to freeze when it's 20 below zero?

I do. About two seconds.

Water froze all over my glasses so I couldn't see.

Water froze all over me, and as some of the water soaked to my skin, I felt ice forming in places I'd rather not mention. I was quickly turning into a Popsicle.

By some miracle, I was not electrocuted. Here I was covered with freezing water holding a running hair dryer trying to figure out whether I wanted to die standing up or lying down. If I wanted to go off this mortal coil in a prone position, all I had to do was fall down.

I was cold enough to freeze to death, but I didn't. I made it to the heated family room, where I shucked out of my clothes and found the main water valve and turned it off. I finally decided anything else I tried to do would result in further disaster, so I went to bed.

Eventually, the broken pipes were mended, the ice cave that used to be a garage melted, and the snow in the driveway turned to slush and ice.

I warmed up too, although it took a long, long time.

As a matter of fact, we had spring that year. It was glorious.

Now, dear readers, if you thought you were going to get a good laugh or an uplifting story, I'm sorry to disappoint you.

But for just a few minutes, while I was writing this, I had a couple of cold chills. I hope you did too.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.