- previous
- 1
- 2
- | single page
"I won't make it down my street," he said, adding that he's also worried about his roof terrace. "I was listening to NPR and they said people with flat roofs should beware. And I thought, 'Mmmm. Great.' "
Plenty of folks made the same decision. Stay home. Or their offices made that decision for them.
Adam Bradbury teaches math at Patterson Park Charter School, one of hundreds of area schools that didn't open.
Not feeling the need to be particularly enterprising on a day off granted by the elements, Bradbury figured he could grade papers at some point. ... Or not. On Sunday, feeling stir-crazy, he walked to the gym at Harbor East to find a game of squash. But by late Monday morning he admitted: "It's been a little online shopping, a little e-mail checking."
And a little stopping for a fancy tea drink at Guy's place with his Great Dane, Cleopatra, in tow.
As a native of Maine, Bradbury has seen plenty of snow. But up there, he says, folks handle it with New England independence. Here, he's been charmed to see his neighbors coming together, sharing both salt and car-pushing muscle. "It forces people to be a bit more social with each other. Everyone's stepping in and helping each other out."
Anthony Howells, who lives in Upper Fells Point, spent the morning trying to rescue his wife, whose car got stuck halfway up their block when she tried to make it to work. While Howells works from home in sales, his wife is a chemist who needed to get to her office near Bel Air.
"That," says Howells, still red-faced and a bit sweaty, "didn't go so well."
She turned right around, dialed work and called in "snow." Not sick. Snow.
Only on the job for a month since moving to Baltimore from Texas, Bob Lesher also had to sheepishly make the call. His boss at Tesco in Timonium was pretty understanding.
"I just couldn't get out of my garage," he says. "We tried, but there's nowhere to put the snow."
Darcy, his wife, who's not working now, spent the morning pulling her obstinate small dogs, Poppy the miniature pinscher and Lily the pug, through far taller piles and drifts.
Tired of struggle, by lunchtime the couple had ditched the dogs and were picking their way across icy Federal Hill sidewalks, headed for burgers at The Abbey Burger Bistro.
After Robinson finished his hard-earned corned beef at Attman's, he had a meeting that somehow hadn't been canceled. He hoped to start his adventure home by about 5:30 p.m. And he really hoped the trip would be easier than his morning ordeal.
"And then," he said. "I have to worry about what's going to happen tomorrow."
Discuss this story and others in our talk forums
More news talk forums: Local | Nation/World | Business | Health/Science | Computers/Technology
Note: In-story commenting has been temporarily disabled due to technical issues. We are working to correct the issue and will bring back this feature in the future. In the meantime, please use our talk forums to discuss stories.
Plenty of folks made the same decision. Stay home. Or their offices made that decision for them.
Adam Bradbury teaches math at Patterson Park Charter School, one of hundreds of area schools that didn't open.
Not feeling the need to be particularly enterprising on a day off granted by the elements, Bradbury figured he could grade papers at some point. ... Or not. On Sunday, feeling stir-crazy, he walked to the gym at Harbor East to find a game of squash. But by late Monday morning he admitted: "It's been a little online shopping, a little e-mail checking."
And a little stopping for a fancy tea drink at Guy's place with his Great Dane, Cleopatra, in tow.
As a native of Maine, Bradbury has seen plenty of snow. But up there, he says, folks handle it with New England independence. Here, he's been charmed to see his neighbors coming together, sharing both salt and car-pushing muscle. "It forces people to be a bit more social with each other. Everyone's stepping in and helping each other out."
Anthony Howells, who lives in Upper Fells Point, spent the morning trying to rescue his wife, whose car got stuck halfway up their block when she tried to make it to work. While Howells works from home in sales, his wife is a chemist who needed to get to her office near Bel Air.
"That," says Howells, still red-faced and a bit sweaty, "didn't go so well."
She turned right around, dialed work and called in "snow." Not sick. Snow.
Only on the job for a month since moving to Baltimore from Texas, Bob Lesher also had to sheepishly make the call. His boss at Tesco in Timonium was pretty understanding.
"I just couldn't get out of my garage," he says. "We tried, but there's nowhere to put the snow."
Darcy, his wife, who's not working now, spent the morning pulling her obstinate small dogs, Poppy the miniature pinscher and Lily the pug, through far taller piles and drifts.
Tired of struggle, by lunchtime the couple had ditched the dogs and were picking their way across icy Federal Hill sidewalks, headed for burgers at The Abbey Burger Bistro.
After Robinson finished his hard-earned corned beef at Attman's, he had a meeting that somehow hadn't been canceled. He hoped to start his adventure home by about 5:30 p.m. And he really hoped the trip would be easier than his morning ordeal.
"And then," he said. "I have to worry about what's going to happen tomorrow."
Discuss this story and others in our talk forums
Most recent local news talk forum topics: