Whenever I am talking about cold and snow, I always remember the winter of 1969-70, my wife Susan and I were in Dubuque, Iowa. It is on the southern border of Wisconsin. We stayed at a Holiday Inn. One of those old motels where you climbed the exterior steps to the second floor, walked down the walkway to your room and went in. That night there was a terrible snow storm with high winds and sub zero temperatures. The next morning I woke up and walked to the window and peered through the curtain. It was covered with snow. I tried to open the front door, it was frozen shut. We had to call the desk and they sent someone up and used an acetylene torch to melt away enough snow/ice that we could open the door like it was something they did on a regular basis and was no big deal. To us, it was like something out of a Saturday Night Live segment.
Over the years, whenever I talk about cold and snow, I always remember that.