After a wonderful weekend visiting our grandparents in Aylmer, we set off for home. Back then, there were no cell phones, GPS, Doppler radar, or weather apps to guide us—just intuition and a paper map. About half an hour into the drive, snow began falling lightly, but within an hour, it had transformed into a full-blown blizzard. The daylight faded quickly, and the world around us turned into a swirling whiteout.
We were travelling on a two-lane highway, remote and nearly deserted. Visibility grew worse by the minute, so my dad decided to follow the faint car tracks and dim taillights of the vehicle ahead. As the snow piled up, our car began to slide to the left. It was slow at first but soon picked up speed, heading toward a large, steep ditch. My dad gripped the wheel tightly, doing everything he could to regain control, but the car wouldn’t respond.
Family car – 1948 Ford Super Deluxe
My mother, calm but clearly worried, told us kids to get down on the floor for safety. But I couldn’t resist peeking—I had to see what was happening. Robert and I were terrified, not knowing what to expect. My mother quietly whispered prayers, and her voice was the only sound in the otherwise silent car.
It felt like an eternity as we slid closer and closer to the ditch. Finally, the car reached the edge, and my dad somehow managed to guide it in with remarkable smoothness. The moment we stopped, relief washed over us—we were safe. Miraculously, the car hadn’t sustained any damage, and it hadn’t flipped over or landed in water.
As my parents began debating what to do next, we suddenly heard a voice calling from above. “Are you all right?” A family driving ahead had noticed our plight. Their young son had been watching through the rear window and saw us sliding off the road. He alerted his parents, and they immediately turned around to help.
The man climbed down the steep, snow-covered embankment and helped us out of the ditch. We squeezed into their warm car—six of us crammed in the backseat, with the men in the front. The family had two kids about the same age as Robert and me, and their kindness was a comforting presence during the chaos. They drove us to the nearest gas station, which was at least five miles away.
Looking back, it’s hard to imagine what might have happened if they hadn’t stopped to help. From the road, our car was completely hidden in the ditch. Hours could have passed before anyone noticed us—or worse, no one might have stopped at all.
At the gas station, my dad called a tow truck and then his parents. My grandparents offered to come pick us up, but by the time they arrived, the tow truck had already retrieved our car. Thankfully, there was no damage, and we were able to continue our journey home.
Even so, we were a bundle of nerves for the remainder of the drive. To this day, we remain profoundly grateful for the kindness of that family. They were truly our guardian angels that snowy night.
Carolyn