On Tuesday, while parents prayed the snow wouldn’t stick, their children were praying for just the opposite.
Those metro Atlanta youngsters who were lucky enough to live within walking distance of their schools, those who weren’t trapped on school buses or corralled into gymnasiums to spend the night, on Tuesday and Wednesday enjoyed that extremely rare Atlanta occasion, a snow day with actual snow.
On Tuesday Kendall Fagan, 8, alternated between throwing snow down her father’s shirt, assaulting her friends with powdery missiles and gathering handfuls to taste. She seemed delighted to the point of giddiness, though she commented that “There’s not enough snow this time to build a snowman.”
Her fellow third-grade students at Winnona Park Elementary School in Decatur were looking out the cafeteria windows at lunch-time that day when the first flakes started falling, and a cheer went through the room. Administrators announced early dismissal shortly thereafter.
Clearly the “snow dance” that she and her classmates had learned back in 2011 was working.
That year, when the snow fell on a Sunday, Kendall’s father Doug Falen bought plastic sleds. Those conveyances had been sitting, unused, in the shed ever since. “Finally we’re getting our money’s worth,” said Falen, 44.
An associate professor of anthropology at nearby Agnes Scott College, Falen had the day off Tuesday and Wednesday because his school was closed too. So he spent the days rocketing down a steep hill off of Kirk Road with Kendall and her little sister Zara, 6.
“They are totally having a blast,” said Becky Shaw, whose daughter Zoe, 9, joined in the frolic, which eventually drew about 50 or 60 sliding children and adults. “This is really bringing back memories.”
Shaw, who grew up in Seattle, had a chance to enjoy plenty of childhood sledding. She was aware that such Currier and Ives memories are impractical in the Sun Belt. But she still longed for her daughter to have the same fun.
In fact some parents at the scene, Falen and Shaw included, were just as eager as their children to jump on a garbage can lid or a recycling bin and try a quick schuss.
On Tuesday few were aware that their friends and colleagues were about to go through hell on the interstates. They would see those news reports soon enough.
But, for that moment, both parents and children were blessed with a chance to play, to tumble, to battle each other with soft white cannonballs, to roll head over heels after being pitched from a wayward plastic dish, and to return home wet, tired, cold and thoroughly happy.
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