Memories of Winter Walk: Part 4

It is a remarkable fact that only once, in the twenty-three years of Winter Walk, has the event ever been canceled because of bad weather. That happened in 2003, when a legendary blizzard, the December 2003 Nor'easter, dumped more than two feet of snow on Hudson from December 5 to December 7. (Winter Walk was on December 6 that year.) So today, when we are experiencing a reprise of that early December storm, Gossips shares a Winter Walk memory from Sarah Sterling, who had an unusual assignment that evening. Sarah has given her memory the title, "The Blizzard That Closed Down Winter Walk."

Photo: Michael Weaver|Flickr

Today is a perfect day to reflect on blizzards!

Ellen Thurston and I got together recently to reminisce about one of our favorite tall tales.

Every so often Hudson gets a Great Blizzard. Not long after I moved here, we had a big one, and this one succeeded in shutting everything down. Ellen and I were part of the group putting on Winter Walk that year. I think my job consisted of wrapping books for the kids in funny papers. Does anyone call them that anymore? You know, the kind with color that rubs off all over your hands. I may have helped dress some of the strollers, too. Around then, Nancy Wiley would wear her amazing dress that had active puppets on the skirt. I believe it’s still being used.

Doug Thorn [then president of the Hudson Opera House board] made the decision to cancel Winter Walk, as he didn’t want to be responsible for children dying on the road. (Ellen’s recollection!) This left almost everyone notified except for the man arriving by train, who danced with a life-sized doll. Ellen and I were drafted to meet him at the train and try to explain the situation. I think someone thought I spoke Spanish. (In truth, I only understood a little Italian).

So we slogged down to the station with the snow getting deeper by the moment. The train arrived, and we tried to explain our problem to the conductor. She thought we were out of our minds and wanted to protect her passengers from us. Finally we got our dilemma through just as a short man with two huge suitcases descended from the train. Sure enough he didn’t speak a word of English. Ellen and I somehow thought he should just stay on the train and make the round trip, but after a few go-rounds, it was decided he’d get off, stay in the station, and get the next train back to New York. I remember clearly that I gave him my gloves because he had arrived without even a coat. Satisfied with our job accomplished, we slogged back up the hill with the snow at least up to our knees.

I did see his act because he came for several years after that. Parts of his suitcase contents were a boom box and the doll. She was gorgeous, and it was an amazingly realistic performance--all tangos. Ellen thinks the song lyrics were very risqué, but this story gets taller by the minute. 

A Gossips Afterword: I don't know about the lyrics being risqué, but I remember his performance one year in the window of the Hudson Supermarket building at 310 Warren Street. It was amazing, but one or two of his moves with that partner of his made Dirty Dancing seem downright demure.
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