First snowstorms of the season seem to bring out stories of those big blizzards of the past. 

More often than not, each retelling magnifies the facts. That’s when a look at the old newspaper reports and other sources gives us a more honest picture, and sometimes that picture is even more remarkable than the memory.

The Blizzard of 1952 is one of those in the memories of many L-A residents of the older generation. I can describe the huge drifts around this old farmhouse. I remember days of work by my father and grandfather when the power was out and a barn full of dairy cattle had to be fed and milked.

My wife, Judy, often tells of that storm when her grandfather, Verdall Spofford, was an Auburn snowplow driver and he barely survived a frigid walk through the blizzard after his truck went into a ditch.

While newspaper pictures and stories of that blizzard 65 years ago are fascinating, the actual words of witnesses deliver so much more. One such detailed account is contained in a tape-recorded interview with John W. White, one of Auburn’s distinguished residents.

Bates College student Andrea L’Hommedieu talked with White in 2002 for the Oral Histories files kept at Muskie Archives on the campus. White, who died in 2010, served as a member of the Auburn City Council and was active in many organizations. A lifelong farmer, his family owned Whiteholm Farm, which is now the site of the Auburn Wal-Mart plaza.

White’s recollection of the 26-inch snowfall in 1952 includes descriptions of roads around the farm area. He said his family was snowbound for a week. There were huge drifts that wouldn’t be cleared from roads for a long time, and he needed to get from his house on outer Summer Street to the dairy barns, so he strapped on skis and headed for Turner Street as soon as he could.

It was still snowing, and he thought he saw the glint of metal under snow not far off the road. A closer look revealed a windshield of a nearly buried car. He skied down for a closer look. The car was empty, but he met a highway department crew farther along, and they said they had just rescued a woman from it who had been overcome by carbon monoxide after the car became stuck.

White told of snow drifts 13 feet deep near Whiting Farm. He said city workers got a large power shovel from the “Peterson Pit” (a sand pit on Garcelon Road near the Auburn Public Works building). It took nearly 12 hours to dig an 8-foot tunnel though that drift, he said.

A section of Summer Street turned out to be a major challenge. Auburn had made good use of a huge Lynn snowplow in big storms for many years. It had tracks on the rear axle and White said everyone figured it would easily break through the 4 feet of packed snow.

It didn’t.

In the next few days, Auburn Highway Department crews took three newly delivered Oshkosh dump trucks to the mired Lynn tractor. One workman dug down to the Lynn’s door, got in and started the engine. The crew chained all three trucks together, hooked onto the back of the Lynn, and together, they slowly backed up and hauled the tractor out.

White’s interview had many descriptions of downed power lines and impassable roads. He also told of some good old Yankee ingenuity.

There was no power in the dairy barn and he had 24 cows to milk.

“The night before I had milked about half of them until I couldn’t squeeze anymore,” he said, so White set about using his small tractor to power the milking machine. He managed to rig a 20-foot piece of harness around the tractor’s belt pulley to run the milking machine, and he used it for the rest of the week.

The ’52 blizzard is often compared to the “Great Blizzard of 1888.” That storm dropped 24 inches on Central Maine. In those days roads were closed much longer, but railroads tried to keep the trains rolling.

Lewiston Evening Journal reporter Sam E. Connor talked with an old-time railroad veteran in 1937 who had a vivid recollection of that late-February storm. At one point, 25 locomotives of the Maine Central line were said to be off the tracks in the first day of that five-day storm.

This past week’s nor’easter won’t rank among those blockbusters of the past. Nevertheless, people of L-A will be relating their experiences for years to come.

Dave Sargent is a freelance writer and a native of Auburn. He can be reached by sending email to [email protected].