Snow troubles make me miserable
By Amanda Seef
NEWS EDITOR

When I was 10 or 11, my dad found a really nice green shovel alongside the road, and brought it home. He told me that there was a present for me in the back of his truck, and being the naïve child that I was, I hoped for a pony.

When I pulled out the shovel, and heard him say, “now you can shovel the snow from the porch,” I was less than excited. He had given me a chore, and played it off as a gift. I would do anything to have that shovel back now.

This past weekend dumped what seems like an endless mass of snow on Brockport. The sidewalks and parking lots were pounded with a foot worth of snow in a very short period of time.

When I went to move my car from lot A the morning of March 8, my car was lost. Snow covered the entire thing and it’s low body couldn’t push through the not-plowed parking lot — I was stuck. I called University Police’s office, and then the grounds crew to request a shovel so I could get out of the parking lot and to my destination.

After waiting a few minutes, one employee came to help, and then two more came with plows. Their help was more than appreciated, and I greatly commend the entire department on their polite demeanor despite spending the entire day in a treacherous snowstorm.

That being said, I still want my shovel back. One consistent problem I have encountered has been the snow removal process for the three sets of stairs surrounding the high rises. I am really surprised that when I woke up this morning, there weren’t passed-out drunk students at the bottom of the stairs because they couldn’t maneuver up the slope. Walking through snow on a level surface is one thing, sliding down a ramp with giant bumps that used to be stairs is a completely different process.

I noticed that stuck cars were a common problem, however, in the resident parking lots. There were students proving that we actually have hearts, pushing each other out as the snow continued to pile behind our cars.

I’m not complaining about the snow, but the point of the story is that we should be issued a shovel when we register for classes. “Welcome to The College at Brockport. This is your ID card and here’s your complimentary shovel, painted to match the school’s colors,” the orientation advisors could say. If we were issued our own shovels at registration, we would be able to dig our cars out, make sure we make it down stairs well, and we could use it as a mode of self-defense in the dark alleys of Brockport.

As I was writing this, however, I noticed that Rochester is nearly in the lead for the “Golden Snowball” contest. As far as I can remember, Syracuse has always won this contest of the most amount of snow. It figures that while I live in the Rochester area, we get more snow here than we do in Syracuse. The lake effect is following me. The southerners should take warning of my presence if I ever get there in the winter.

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