Some serious snowfall!

For whatever reason, it just does not snow like it used to. Call it a combination of quicker more efficient snow removal, or a shift in climate... whatever. This is what it looked like when Montreal took a major snow dump. These pics are from a major snowstorm that paralyzed the city in March 1971. My mom was months away from giving birth to me, but I remember other similar storms in my youth.

Above we see my grandfather plowing his way through his driveway and my expectant mom watching from the door. I believe they had just managed to make it home, as roads were blocked and most (except my dad, who somehow managed to get his Ford home before all hell broke loose) had to sleep at work or within walking distance. The green POS in the driveway was my dad's 1970 Fairlane 500... a true rustbucket in the traditional sense, as it decomposed itself to bits within 4 years of ownership, being replaced by a new 1974 Impala.

Here's a shot from the balcony as my grandfather (left) and my father (right) clear mountains and mountains of snow from the driveway. The snow clinging to the passing green car attests to what most vehicles were dealing with at the time. The red car across the street shows clearly how its front wheel was completely buried at one point during the episode.

The storm hit sometime in the afternoon that March day, and lasted through the night. By the time road crews were able to open up enough roads to allow people to get home, it was the next day's afternoon. Here we see a sunset shot on that next afternoon. My mom and grandmother were able to make it home once the main arteries were opened up, but had to endure some 10 residential blocks of waist-high snow on the sidewalks before they could get home, especially tough for my mom who was several months away from childbirth (yours truly).

You just don't see snow banks higher than one's head nowadays. At this point everyone was home safe and sound (including me... I'm in the doorway with my mother, so to speak...). However, at this point, my grandfather's '65 Impala was still jammed in a small side street downtown somewhere, unable to plow through walls of snow higher than the car's hoodline... he, and thousands of other motorists, had to abandon his car and make it home by subway and on foot.