A howling Old Testament wrath of winds and torrential rain clawed at roofs and shuddered homes at their foundations in the first hours of Sunday, Jan. 27, dissolving three-foot high drifts of snow that had transformed our mountain villages, our roads and our lives since the previous Wednesday.

Those who did not sleep through the storm’s raging post-midnight surge clung to our bucking piece of the planet awestruck at the fury of such weather. Between midnight and 2:30 a.m. it turned a snow load that had crashed vehicles, bruised bodies, encumbered livelihoods, closed schools, threatened government agencies and mystified puppies into an etch-a-sketch memory.

Mountain weather is a harsh and lyrical tutor, sensuous one moment, lethal the next. Sunday’s lessons veered from black ice to flash flood warnings then back to snow. By afternoon, it started all over again and lasted until Tuesday, Jan. 29.

During the week’s cascade of storms many of us experienced jolting moments of helplessness mitigated by a kind hand from guardian angels who in less challenging times we know simply as neighbors.

This issue carries your photos and tales of snowstorm adventures. Many end with generosity from passers-by—with a winch, a rope, or a steady grip—that in some cases saved lives and in others opened eyes to how interconnected we mountain people are proud to be.

Weather harsh enough to crack even the most wellcrafted case of Humvee hubris reminds us how fortunate we are to be part of this community. Thank you for sharing your stories.

Patric Hedlund, Editor

This is part of the February 01, 2008 online edition of The Mountain Enterprise.

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