Snowstorm frozen in time

Twenty-five years ago today, Cape Girardeau and its inhabitants were paralyzed by a winter storm unlike any the city had seen before. Two feet of snow fell during a 15-hour period Sunday, Feb. 25, 1979, making travel all but impossible, crushing roofs and leaving countless people stranded in cars, at work and in hotels.

But from the chaos that ensued came stories of heroes: neighbors helping neighbors, everyday residents rescuing those in need when emergency workers were overloaded.

By Callie Clark ~ Southeast Missourian

The rain and sleet on that Saturday afternoon in 1979 didn't stop 22 Boy Scouts and their troop leaders from pitching their tents in Trail of Tears State Park.

After all, the local television station had only forecast flurries. As the precipitation turned to snow, the boys devoured sack suppers and took shelter in their tents for the evening.

Troop leader Bill Scharenborg and his co-leader crawled into the cab of his pickup truck, planning to keep an eye on the weather and break camp if the snow didn't stop by midnight.

Both men fell asleep. Scharenborg awoke at 6:30 a.m. Sunday, stepped out of the truck and sank up to his waist in a 29-inch snowdrift. The boys' tents had disappeared.

Ten miles away in her home on Normal Avenue in Cape Girardeau, nurse Erica McBride received a phone call that morning from a co-worker at Southeast Missouri Hospital advising her to look out her window.

A dangerous situation was building with each additional inch of snow. McBride, on vacation at the time, was one of a few hospital employees who lived close enough to walk to work.

She trudged from her home near the university through waist-high snow drifts in Capaha Park to the hospital, where she would stay for four unforgettable days.

A steady stream of sick and injured people clogged the emergency room. National Guard helicopters swooped in and out on rescue missions. The telephone switchboard stayed lit with frantic calls from parents with sick children, diabetics running low on insulin, new mothers with dwindling supplies of baby formula.

Commanding view

Ronnie Fischer, a county commissioner at the time, realized the severity of the situation as he attempted to drive home after dropping his daughter off at work early Sunday morning.

His four-wheel-drive truck ended up pushing the mounds of snow rather than driving over it. His vehicle bogged down in what was then known as Cherokee Park, and he walked from there to his house on Perryville Road.

By then, Presiding Commissioner Gene Huckstep had called an emergency commission meeting at the county courthouse in Jackson. Fischer made his way there with the help of a city road grader. That afternoon, the commission declared the county in a state of emergency and contacted the governor's office for assistance.

As the snow piled higher and visibility diminished to 50 yards in places, Interstate 55 closed. Travelers caught in the storm sought refuge at local hotels.

Ramada Inn manager Pete Poe set off for work around at 5 a.m. Sunday with his 12-year-old son in tow, but his vehicle became stuck in the snow and the two walked the last mile.

It was the first and perhaps only time Poe would hear thunder and see lightning during a blizzard. By the time he and his son arrived at the Ramada, the 400 Kiwanis members staying there for a district convention were awake and aware of the storm. At a time when Poe would normally have had 60 employees on staff, he was left with only six because of the weather.

Stranded in a remote area miles from home, Jackson Boy Scout leader Scharenborg feared the boys in his charge, all between the ages of 11 and 14, had suffocated beneath the 2 feet of snow blanketing their now invisible tents.

He walked just a few feet from his truck before stumbling over a tent rope hidden by the snow. His blunder shook the snow from the attached tent. The boys inside were not injured, but the weight of the snow had partially collapsed the tents.

All of the boys eventually emerged unharmed. Scharenborg was relieved to find the interior of the troop's supply tent dry and three days' worth of food safe. Over the next 72 hours, they would need it.

Crisis management

McBride hadn't assisted with a surgery in years. The snow outside had finally stopped, but the chaos inside the hospital continued that Sunday evening and McBride, a registered nurse and supervisor at Southeast Missouri Hospital, found herself in the middle of an emergency Caesarean section.

Six physicians who were either at the hospital when the snow began or made their way there during the storm remained on duty at Southeast during the crucial hours that followed the blizzard. But no surgery staff made it in, leaving McBride and another nurse to assist in the C-section.

The two were successfully coached through the operation by a homebound surgery nurse speaking by telephone. Both the mother and baby came out fine.

Fischer and his fellow commissioners responded to each new problem as it arose from their headquarters at the courthouse in Jackson. It was clear that the city and county road equipment were no match for the snow accumulation. The commission sent out an order banning all but emergency vehicles from the roads and requested aid from the National Guard.

Reports of stranded residents came from every direction that Sunday afternoon. And now Fischer himself was stranded at the courthouse with no chance of getting to his home in Cape Girardeau. That night, he would sleep on a patient examining table in the county health department offices.

At the Ramada Inn, now named the Drury Inn, stranded motorists straggled in from Interstate 55 throughout Sunday. Hotel manager Poe had no more rooms available so he offered them the lobby.

With only a few hotel staff members on hand, many of the guests volunteered their services for cleaning and cooking. Among the Kiwanis group were two restaurant owners and a chef who helped prepare buffet-style meals.

At Trail of Tears State Park, Scharenborg, 22 Boy Scouts and two other troop leaders packed their belongings around 9 a.m. Sunday and made their way to the park superintendent's house some 100 yards away from their campsite.

There, the group learned that all roads had been closed to non-emergency vehicles. They were stuck, along with several of the boys' parents who had driven out to pick up their children when the snow started earlier that day.

For three days, the group stayed in the 15-by-26-foot basement of the superintendent's house. The superintendent was low on food. The troops shared their supply of canned goods, bacon, eggs and milk. Members of the National Guard arrived Tuesday to take them home.

The boys and their troop leaders eventually were issued a special patch in recognition of the experience.

"The boys had a great time playing in the snow," Scharenborg said. "And they learned a lot about survival."

Fischer spent a second uncomfortable night on an examining room table at the county courthouse. By Tuesday, he too was able to return home.

After the storm

The travel ban remained in place, and most businesses stayed closed until Thursday. Two blizzard-related deaths were reported, and damage from the storm ran into the millions of dollars.

"The thing that sticks out in my mind is how much people pitched in to help," Fischer said. "Some said it gave them a chance to meet their neighbors because there was nothing else for them to do."

Poe also remained on duty at the Ramada Inn until Tuesday. By that time, most of the guests had checked out and replacement staff arrived.

"It was a once-in-a-lifetime situation, and we made the best of it," Poe said.

McBride's emergency stint at the hospital lasted four days. After being relieved Wednesday morning, McBride walked home thinking Cape Girardeau had never looked so beautiful.

"Anxiety was a luxury we did not have time to pursue," McBride said. "It was an experience none of us will forget. Not for the hours worked nor the responsibilities assumed, but for the camaraderie, unselfishness and sincere respect we shared."

cclark@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 128