Tom Stangl

Last week, many of us got an old fashioned “snow day.”

People of a certain age will fondly recall praying to the snow gods to bring a heavy snowfall and drifting winds so classes would be forced to be cancelled at the school. I have fond memories of trudging through the snow delivering my newspapers in the morning, speculating about the odds of a snow day with other carriers when we rendezvoused at the place where our bundles were dropped at 6 a.m. 

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