In my day, if you’d like to know,
I walked to school at 30 below.
Anchorage in days of old,
Was tough, and it was brutal cold!
In my day, heaven knows,
We didn’t possess the proper clothes.
We were cold! No one around,
Had coats stuffed with fine goose down,
Or balaclavas to cover our snoots,
And snug-fitting, felt-lined boots.
Polypropylene wasn’t invented yet,
Warm long johns were hard to get.
Freezing hands were a risk,
Chemical warmers did not exist.
In my day, if you even care,
Frozen cars sat everywhere.
They didn’t move, didn’t want to go
When temperatures were far below.
My ‘53 Chevy, a piece of junk,
Sat idle in its winter funk.
But when temps rose to double digit,
It began to stir, shutter and fidget.
With windshield scraping, clearing snow,
My teenage ride would start to go.
Windows down with proper care,
Outside the car was warmer air!
Winter driving was staying alive,
No studded tires or four-wheel drive.
The windshield fogged, I couldn’t see,
Defroster was my enemy.
A lot of things hadn’t happened yet,
We didn’t have iPhones, internet.
If we got stuck, ran off the road,
We couldn’t call to get towed.
We shivered, waiting for passers by
For rescue, so we wouldn’t die.
In my day, things were rough,
And maybe we were Alaska tough.
But if we’d had an easier way,
We wouldn’t value what we have today.
Because now, in your day, wherever I roam,
I don’t forget my handy iPhone.
— Frank E. Baker
Eagle River
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