As snow falls outside my window and a cold wind blows, I'm enjoying memories of playing in freshly fallen snow as a child, back in the late the 1960s and early '70s.
Dozens of children resided in my neighborhood in those days, the products of several Catholic families. There were three families of at least seven children or more on my block alone. My family included eight children. There was always someone to play with, and it was never difficult to gather players for a baseball or football game. And it seemed as though each one of those kids could be found outside immediately after a snowstorm.
Some kids made snow angels and snowmen, but many of us built snow walls, igloos and snow forts. And nearly all of us participated in snowball fights. I can recall battles involving 40 or more children, with not a parent in sight.
Two of my older brothers were like combat engineers when it came to building sturdy snow forts. Terry and Tim built forts with tall walls that had firing steps for the defenders, and they always constructed a small igloo within the perimeter of the walls, where defenders could go to warm or seek cover from a heavy barrage of snowballs.
They once pulled some paneling dad stored in the garage and used it to make an internal room within an igloo. They frequently built snow forts in January that seemed strong enough to stand until July. They didn't, of course, but that's how it looked to a 10-year-old.
Few in the neighborhood could compete with my brothers' snow fort designs, but the Moose brothers, Jack and Joe, always gave it a good effort.
I always enjoy reflecting about those days whenever snow falls. I don't play in the snow anymore, and I don't enjoy driving in it. But I savor the memories of watching my older brothers construct snow forts. And I remember doing my part to help defend them from an attacking force of friends and neighbors.
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