Everyone in the Class of ’50 will remember the November snow of 1950, one of the whoppers of the century. The College was closed because of the storm. I lived on LaBelle View with Anna and Verne Adams and had a job at the Isaly Store downtown. I walked to work with a group because no busses or cars were allowed on the streets for three or four days.
Deacon Tom Johnston ’50
I will never forget the Thanksgiving of my first year at the College. The day before was cold with a brisk wind from the northwest. I had decided to hitchhike to Adena, figuring that I could walk the remaining 5 miles to Harrisville if I had to. That was the coldest hitchhiking I ever did. Thanksgiving itself was the most beautiful day you could imagine: Warm and sunny with a nice breeze from the southwest. Friday was about the same. Saturday morning it started to snow, and didn’t stop until Monday afternoon, leaving some three feet of snow. I'm not sure that I got back to school that week. I do remember that the grocery stores in Pittsburgh would not sell you milk if you didn't have small children at home.
Martin Sokoll, MD ’54
In 1952, we had a student who came from Cuba to learn the English language. His name was Carlos LaRosa, and his uncle was a friend of Father Phil Clark, the dean at that time. The first time we had snow, we walked from the Delta Sigma house to the downtown campus. Carlos had never seen snow before, and he walked off the sidewalk or in the street all the way to Washington Street, like a little kid. Carlos did not warm up all winter.
Michael Wodarcyk ’55
The walk from Washington Street to buildings on Fourth Street got longer from January to March, and sometimes you needed to do the trek several times a day. It was always a relief to stop in at the Ac-Shack and get warmed up!
Patricia Ragon Ballo ’63
What I remember after a snowfall on the hill were the specs of black soot that pitted the white snow. It was a sign of prosperity to the local residents: The mills were working hard, pumping out steel, and everyone that wanted a job had one.
Don Plagman ’66
The weather event that sticks in my mind was the forest fires caused by lightening that covered the hills across the river in West Virginia. Although it was a very dangerous situation, it was an equally amazing sight at night to see the flames shooting skyward as the fires increased in size. I also remember the call for volunteers to assist in putting out the fires, and the brothers of Lambda Chi Alpha answering the call!
Jack Skoviak ’67
In the spring of 1967, a bunch of students were downtown near the old Fort Steuben Hotel when the weather changed drastically. The rain came down fast and hard, but it changed to hail about 1/4- to 1/2-inch in diameter for a few minutes. One girl, from Baltimore, couldn't believe it. She had never seen hail, let alone this size.
John Howell ’68
As a commuter, I remember a February snowstorm in the early ’60s on the hill. It started coming down in early morning, and by 1:00 it seemed certain that finally we might get lucky and classes would be canceled the next day. At the very least, we were sure that two of our favorite professors, the sister-in-law/brother-in-law team of Liberty Antalis and Danny Georges, would not be able to travel back the next day all the way from Shadyside, Ohio. Much to our dismay, we did indeed have English and history classes the next day: Liberty and Danny didn't want to disappoint us, so they stayed the night at the Fort Steuben Hotel!
Michele Belardine Fabbro ’68
Once during the winter of 1968 or 1969, the snow was so bad that the campus was closed for a day. No one could get up the hill and you could hardly see the academic building from the girls’ dorm. I remember snowball fights and sliding down the hill on cafeteria trays. In 1968 ladies still had to wear pantsuits or dresses to class, but we were given permission to wear slacks in the cold.
Gracie (Kniola ’72) Landrum
I remember one very long, sub-zero January in St. Thomas More Hall. I was back in the dorm for a couple days before the rest of the students came back, so it was very quiet. It was so cold, the walls and bricks were cracking loudly. Because of the quietness in the dorm, the cracking sounds echoed throughout the halls of the entire building. Also, because of the extreme cold, the heater in my room could not emit enough heat. I spent those days dressed in long johns and sweats, and wrapped in several blankets in order to keep warm.
Michael F. Clark ’74
In the 70's, when the output from the steel mills was blowing our direction, we used to run from building to building with bandana-covered faces. Eyes teared up from the soot and grit and lack of oxygen. During the famous “red sky days,” there were times we couldn't tell if it was day or night. The hallway walls in the dorms and classroom buildings would be virtually invisible during these times.
Robin Greco Wright (1976-1977)
In the winters of 1977 and 1978, there always seemed to be a snowstorm when it was time to go home or return from break. The winter of ’77, the entire state of Ohio was shut down around the time to go home for break due to a major winter storm. I drove home to Cleveland, with both hands firmly on the steering wheel the entire way, driving through frigid and icy conditions to get home for the holidays. After Christmas break, I had promised to pick up some friends from the Pittsburgh airport and drive them back to school. I made it from Cleveland to Pittsburgh and to the bottom of the hill at Franciscan Way. The hill was so icy that it took a lot of prayer and effort to drive the old Ford Pinto, wheels spinning, up the hill. It was the most challenging part of the entire trip.
Al Trefney ’80
One very late Saturday evening after a snowfall, my new friend John and I were walking back to the dorms from the JC Williams Center. The snow was so beautiful and untouched that our five-minute walk tuned into two hours. That night, two people who did not see eye-to-eye on things learned about each other and found common interests that developed into a friendship that not only sustained us through pledging TKE and DZ, but carried through until graduation.
I also remember borrowing the cafeteria trays and sledding down the hill by the chapel into the night in hopes that classes would be cancelled the next day. Classes were never cancelled. The next snowfall we would all be out on the hill again doing the same routine.
Georgia (Lentz ’81) Sager
In the winter of ’80, plus or minus a year, a really deep snowfall paralyzed the local community; school was cancelled and most of the roads in and around Steubenville were closed. It was a heavy snowfall. What to do? Well, I started up the motorcycle and had not just one passenger (the gal I was dating at the time) but two passengers (her brother) on the bike. We tried, mostly unsuccessfully, tooling around the campus, and became the target for many snowballs.
James F. Gartner ’82
All I remember ever being different about the weather was the extremely thick smog! It was so thick that when you walked past the chapel up the hill to class, you didn't see the church! That just blew my mind!
Jeanne (Jonza ’83) Fess
I decided to visit for my 20-year reunion in 2004. I left Maryland early with my friend Sally who had never visited campus. It rained heavily the morning we set out. We got into Weirton and stopped to eat. The parking lot had a big puddle, which made its way into the inner foyer where patrons ordered food and then into a part of the dining area. We were detoured from Route 2, which was closed from flooding, and the radio reported closings on Route 7 between Wheeling and Steubenville. We prayed as we ventured north on Route 7 because we witnessed mudslides onto southbound Route 7, with traffic at complete stop because trees lay across the highway. We made it to Steubenville at last, and were saddened to find that the Portiuncula had flooded and was closed to visits.
Annette Sarcinelli MA ’84
I had an 8 a.m. class with Mr. Kamalipour in the spring of my freshman year. I left my home in the West End in my dad's Buick at 7:30. When I got to Sunset, it turned out that the roads were a sheet of ice, the rain apparently having begun freezing the second I backed out of the garage. We were having an exam that morning, so I knew I had to get to class. Father Michael and/or Dean Convery, whoever would have been responsible for doing so, never, EVER canceled class for the weather. Period. So I struggled, slid, slipped and prayed my way through town, eventually getting onto campus and into my classroom around 8:40 for a class that ended around 8:55 or so.
There were only a couple of on-campus kids in the class! Mr. Kamalipour asked me why I had struggled so hard. He had canceled the test when no one could walk across campus, let alone commute in. A cell phone surely would have come in handy, had we the technology readily available and affordable in February 1981!
Paul Giannamore ’84
One afternoon, a blizzard hit around 3 p.m. My now wife, then girlfriend, Kathy (DeMartin ’85), had a huge 1976 Chevy. She pulled out of the parking lot onto the upper Franciscan Way ahead of me, and did everything they tell us not to do in driver's ed: Lock the wheels, skid into a turn, etc. I was driving just as carefully as I could, low gear, flashers on, right behind her. She pulled around a car that was stopped on the hill. I tried to turn and slid right into the back of the car. It was Joyce Orlando, the public relations director. I got out of the car to see if she was OK but fell on my backside and slid all the way down to just about University Boulevard before I stopped. She was OK. I was a little bruised from the fall. My car ended up with a dent we couldn't see until the next day when the snow melted off the front bumper. Kathy still can't drive, but after 24 years of marriage in a relationship that blossomed at Franciscan, she also reminds me from time to time that she did better than I did in the snow that day!
Father Sam Tiesi, TOR, took the Little Flowers Household bowling in a snowstorm in January 1985. I just looked at him and asked him if he were nuts to drive in the storm: When he drove the van down the hill, it did a 180 halfway down. I thought it was over. I don't have theme park rides down here in Florida like that.
Jeanne Stark ’85 MSE ’08
December 8, the feast day of the Immaculate Conception, there was an evening penance service immediately following the 6:25 p.m. Mass. I was living in St. Francis Hall and remember coming over for Mass as it was just starting to snow. After Mass, most students simply stayed inside for the penance service to start while more folks filtered in, so from 6:15 or so to about 9:30 many students were inside the chapel. When we came out, the entire campus was clothed in probably about 5-8 inches of snow and was pure white. “Though your sins are as scarlet, they will become as white as snow,” is all I could think. Everybody simply played in the snow well into the evening, sliding down the road and hills, throwing snowballs, and having fun in general. I think school was cancelled the next day, or exams were postponed.
Rob T. Fortener ’88
I remember a particular Festival of Praise night of reconciliation. On the way to the FOP, snow had just begun falling and we sloshed through muck. By the time the service was over, the campus was covered with about a foot of beautiful fluffy white snow. The campus felt clean and fresh, just like I did after the reconciliation service.
Anna-Mary Boler ’88
It was nearing the end of the spring semester, and we had an unbelievable rainstorm.
I was walking down the hill from Tommy More and looked over at JC Williams Center.
All of the rain had collected to the right of the building; It was as though we had a lake on the campus. People were jumping in and swimming in it. I remember one of the guys was at least 6'4" and he was up to his neck in water.
Jeanette (Ambrosio) Geary (1987-1989)
I'll never forget the year I took my youth group on retreat to a Steubenville Summer Conference. I had attended them throughout my youth group days, and now it was my turn to share this awesome experience with my group as their leader. There was a bad storm coming on Saturday night—the “Big Night” in the tent. I was so excited for my group to experience this wonderful evening. Little did I know God had bigger plans: He worked a miracle by getting us all out of that tent safe and alive! We were all in the tent to begin the evening festivities, when the MC at the time said that he felt God was telling him we needed to clear the tent because of the impending storm. No sooner did they get us all safely into the fieldhouse then the tent collapsed. It was a crazy storm, and God had saved us.
Therese Downey (wife of alumni Bob Downey ’89)
I remember the post-Christmas purchase of Laser-Tag sets the winter of 1989 by my household brothers in House of David—down to $13 from $40, it was too good to pass up! We planned to have a bit of goofy fun in the dorm, blasting each other in a time before Laser-Tag arenas were commonplace. Later that weekend, we had our first honest-to-goodness blackout, and pencil-thin beams of light lit up the hallway, in between Ron Legaspie running about with a blue blanket over his head and a glow-in-the-dark rosary in his hands.
John D. McNichol (formerly John Coleman) ’92
One January between 1987 and 1992, one day it was 32 degrees and snowing, and the next day it was 70 degrees and sunny. Go figure.
The first time it snowed, my friend Desiree from Hawaii found me in the J. C. Williams Center and was excited because it was the first time she had seen snow. Another friend from Cleveland and I went outside with her. She was catching snow on her tongue and raving about the flakes. We had a group hug, and then my friend and I looked at each other with a stare that said, "Snowball fight!" Desiree knew what we were up to so she tried to get back inside as quickly as she could before we could hit her with the snowballs, but I think we got her at least once.
Michael Archibald ’93
I don't know if it was the worst winter ever, but in the winter of 1993, three friends from the University and I were renting a house in La Belle. Two were graduates working professionally in Pittsburgh and two were finishing student teaching and counseling internships at the University. We loved the house and it was the first time that any of us had lived off-campus. It was also the first time our landlord had rented to college students, particularly young women with very little home maintenance experience. This particular winter, there seemed to be an ice storm every other week. During one of the ice storms, our pipes froze and there was no way for our landlord to get to us! Thank goodness for the Finnegan Fieldhouse: It was the only place we had to take showers!
Bridgette Grady ’93
For a Florida boy, the winters were tough and my misery was compounded by the fact I worked for the Maintenance Dept and had to get up to salt and shovel the walks.
Dave Conklin ’89 MBA ’93
Ohio Valley residents had to put up with loud banging pipes a week before exam time one fall semester. The heat register pipes were so powerful that one would watch small objects shake on one's desk. FUS decided to give us some relief and put us all up at the Holiday Inn during exam week.
Karen Getzel ’93
Once we received a "stagnant air" warning wherein we were advised to not go outside.
Natalie Burt ’93
The Alliance of Catholic Women Conference, March 12-14, 1993, got snowed in at the St. Joseph Center. Snow was predicted, but 60 women had come from all over the U.S. and a little snow was not going to stop them. Little did they know what was in store for the weekend. By 9 p.m. Friday, there was 15-20 inches of snow with 3' or higher drifts! The city was shut down. Before the weekend was over the storm was labeled “The Storm of the Century.” With the conference leaders' and University approval, maintenance crews went to the dorms and took blankets and pillows from the beds. This was the start of Spring Break so the dorms were empty. As God would have it, an engagement party had been cancelled and the cafeteria had plenty of food prepared to send up for dinner, and there were enough leftovers for breakfast. The conference continued on Saturday, and after lunch Paula, a local, took several of the women to their homes in her 4WD. By mid-afternoon a few of the women had been picked up by family, but the leaders and others stayed. I awoke at 6am on Sunday craving that first cup of coffee, so I made coffee for everyone, woke them up with its pleasant scent and we prepared for Mass. The maintenance crew had plowed the road down to the chapel. The campus was silent but beautiful—it had been blanketed with one of God’s miracles of creation: snow! I believe we danced in the joy of the Lord on the way to Sunday Mass.
Judith A. Coopy ’93
The winter of 1992-1993 was one of the worst in my memory. Over Christmas break it snowed about every three days back home in Boston, so I was ready to head back to Steubenville where it never got so deep I had to shovel. Right. After my 11-hour drive, I pulled up to the on-street parking in front of my apartment on Ridge Ave to find a giant, ice-hardened snow bank which I had to shovel right then and there so I could park my car and go in the house.
Domenic Bettinelli ’94
The summer of 1994 or 1995, we had such a massive thunderstorm during one of the youth conferences that they evacuated the tents right before a huge gust of wind toppled the “big top”. Miraculously, no one was hurt. That night, I was at a friend's apartment with a large group, watching the lightning and enjoying the excitement of a citywide power outage. Someone got the bright idea for a run to Drover's over in West Virginia to pick up hot wings for everyone, and as the resident Drover's hot wings addict, I volunteered to go. I remember driving up the little road into the hills on the other side of the river, rain pouring down in sheets so I could barely see the road, lightning like flash bulbs going off overhead, questioning my own sanity for venturing out in the storm, when a lightning bolt struck just off the road. I nearly jumped out of my skin and drove off the road, but thankfully I was unharmed and the road was not blocked. I did get those hot wings, you can be sure, after all that. And they tasted even better—if that's possible—for all the effort it took to get them.
We had an unusually snowy and very cold January and February in 1994. I was a non-traditional student and worked my way through classes as a bus mechanic at one of the local school districts. This particular day dawned at nearly 30 degrees below zero, and I had been out that morning plowing snow and starting buses. School had been canceled and businesses opened late because of the extreme cold. Since I was in the area, I decided to stop by and purchase my books for that semester. I wheeled into the circle at Williams in my service vehicle and parked. I noticed that all the students, many that I knew were from countries where anything below 50 degrees would be considered cold, were all bundled up and huddled together walking around campus. I got out of my truck and walked into the JC Williams Center in shirt sleeves and a ball cap like it was summertime, and as I stood in line waiting for the book store to open I noticed that hundreds of eyes were looking at me as though I was some type of crazy old man. I now live in the high mountains of Colorado and I often remember that day and it makes me smile.
John Jones ’95
I remember once driving up the hill to get to a class, and the road freezing as I was driving up it. It was unnerving, to say the least, but I was impressed how Buzz and the staff that salted the streets were right on it and did the best they could to make things safe. Buzz always had a smile on his face even if he was working in the cold or working in the hot and humid summer weather.
William O'Leary ’95, MA ’97
I remember the huge storm of 1996: A group of us had just returned from the Holy Land pilgrimage with Scott Hahn. When we landed there were about 4 feet of snow on the ground. We managed to make it from the airport back to Steubenville, but not quite all the way to my rented house on Arlington Ave. The car could not make it down the snow-filled alley. So my luggage and I hiked through the piled-up white stuff for an entire block.
Dawn Miller MA ’96
I hitched a ride south for spring break my freshman year with Warren Dazio, Allison Stanford, Ann MacNamara and some others during the “Blizzard of ’92”. It took us 36 hours to get to New Orleans! Traffic was literally at a standstill in Alabama. We slept in a Hardees and had snowball fights with other spring breakers on the road.
Robin Colwell ’97
My roommate and I shared a fourth-floor room in Thomas More overlooking the tennis courts. I woke up early for an 8 a.m. class and discovered 3 inches of snow on the ground. I knew my roommate would open the curtains when she woke up. Before she did, I went to the tennis courts and wrote in the snow using my footprints in big 20' letters “HI AMALIA!”
Dawn-Marie (Brisson ’98) Orlando
We had two back-to-back heavy snowfalls the winter of 1995-96 that all but shut down the campus. Living on LaBelle hill, I recall walking to campus up that steep hill, with the icy wind in my face. Fellow students would feel sorry for me and give me a ride, then express disgust when I told them I was walking because I had put my car in my heated garage, washed the ice and salt off of it, and didn't want to get it dirty. That was the last real snowfall we had until I left in the spring of 1999.
Mike Smith Dec ’98
In the spring semester of 1995, there was a morning where the entire campus was a sheet of ice due to freezing rain. It was still coming down at a good pace, so my friend and I were trying to walk to our 8 a.m. class holding umbrellas. I couldn't balance everything, and I slipped and fell coming out of the cafeteria, denting my umbrella and severely bruising my knee. Everyone was having trouble walking up the hill to Egan—you just slid right back down—until we all figured out we had to walk on the grass instead. When I got to my 9 a.m. class, my knee still really hurt. Someone told Dr. Slater, so he had someone get me a bag of ice, except the “bag” was actually a vinyl glove from the chemistry lab! Everyone laughed and teased me because it looked like a cow's udder. Humiliation is much more amusing 15 years later than it is at the time!
Mary Rotsaert ’98
A few days into the spring semester of 1999, there was the absolute worst blizzard I ever saw in Steubenville. Lines were down, streets were covered—it was a mess. Combine that with the inclined geography of the Ohio Valley and driving became virtually impossible. The city of Steubenville went into emergency mode, where driving became prohibited for an entire week. Anyone caught driving (unless they served a vital emergency function) was issued a ticket. Classes were cancelled for at least that amount of time—it was a complete mess. This was about two weeks after my wife Anna (Lebens ’99) and I were married. We had just moved into our little two-story house up on Wellesley, and here we were, unable to even leave the house for a week, with no cable, very little food reserves, and many years to wait before Netflix put out streaming movie rentals. If we didn’t already know everything there was to know about each other, that was our chance! Fortunately, we had just made a trip to the Wal-Mart, and while we hadn't planned on buying enough food to eat in every meal for a week, we had purchased a deck of cards, Yahtzee and a Scrabble game that still had all the letters. We still talk about that week, and remember it as a truly wonderful time, and a great way to kick off our last semester together at Franciscan University.
Doug Longstaff, ’99
In my sophomore year (1997), the power went out in all the dorms. A lot of students were panicked, which Peter Lama, Dan Costanzo, and I thought was a little funny. We knew it was just a normal power outage, but we saw an opportunity for a little fun, so we made up some tiki-torches and signs on sticks that said “Repent, the end is near!” and “The three days of darkness are upon us! Repent!” We gathered a bit of a crowd and we paraded around campus shouting these things—this was just the type of stuff our Brothers’ household loved doing. The best part is that a bunch of students really were frightened of the power outage and thought there was something more to it. Side note: we don’t think the real three days of darkness, should God ever subject us to them, will be nearly as funny.
Jon O’Malley ’99 MA ’01
We didn’t have enough salt for the ice during orientation in the spring of ’99, but there was salt on every table in the cafeteria.
Lynn Flaherty ’00
In my first semester on the hill in the spring of ’99, I remember a huge snow and ice storm that came in on the afternoon of the first day of classes and closed the school on the next two days. It was great meeting people, because nobody really had any work to do yet. Fr. Dave Pivonka tried to sled down a hill at JCC and dislocated his shoulder. He kept saying that he injured it protecting a helpless nun from a group of snowball-throwing thugs. It was great to extend break on campus for a couple of days.
Patrick Tramma ’00 MA ’01
I will never forget the power outage we had on campus in the late ’90s while I was living in Marian Hall. It was well after midnight when two of us found ourselves in a pitch-black TV lounge when the power went out. Something had killed the electricity all over campus, so small groups of nocturnal students wandered outside like something out of Dawn of the Dead. Within 15 minutes a group from Living Stones with candles and a four-pole canopy were traversing the campus, ringing a bell while one figure under the canopy held a large tome open in his hands and announced loudly, “REPENT! The three days of darkness are upon us! Turn back from your sins!” When the next morning rolled around, the 8 and 9 a.m. classes were largely empty due to students not realizing their alarms had blinked off—or at least students who realized their professors would not be able to prove that they hadn't realized their alarms had blinked off.
Bob Sutton ’00
During the first day of our business law class, Prof. Tom Wilson explained his attendance policy to the class. He specifically mentioned that even if it snowed, he expected those of us who lived on campus to show up for class. I think there might have been a mention of using cafeteria trays as a mode of transportation if needed. Later that semester a big snowstorm hit the Steubenville area and word spread through the student grapevine that a snow day had been called. Remembering the attendance policy, a few classmates and myself were unsure what to do. I called the campus operator to check on the status of classes. When she said that all classes had been cancelled, I was sure to clarify, “Even Prof. Wilson's Business Law?” She assured me that all classes were cancelled—even Prof. Wilson’s.
Chantal Beaulieu ’01
I remember my first day of class at Franciscan. I had just driven 2,000 miles across the country with my parents to an unknown land. I had never visited the University and had no clue what the weather was like compared to the arid west. It looked like rain, but I did not want to look like a dork walking from Tommy More to Egan with an umbrella that my mom made me bring. By the time I arrived at class, I had to ring my hair out as if I had just taken a shower. Only in Steubenville can it thunder during a snowstorm, and snow for five minutes, then the sun shines for 10, then it snows again—all day long! The most random and unpredictable weather!
Sarah (O’Donnell ’02) Courtright
The winter of 2004 was particularly memorable on campus. Class was closed twice due to weather. Those of us who prayed the “Blitzkrieg Novena,” three Memorares, credited the two snow days to Our Lady!
Mary Beth (Bolle ’04) Brummond
It was a cold night in 2002 when I learned to fear the marriage of an Ohio winter and Franciscan University’s Vaccaro Field entrance. The snow and ice had already been accumulating for several hours on that blustery Saturday in February when, in my wisdom, I decided that 1:00 a.m. was the perfect time for a trip to Kroger. As I turned out of Parkview Circle and reached the top of the west entrance hill, which by this time was covered in layer upon refrozen layer of snow, I thought back to all of those Maryland winters during which I had faced similar weather and harrowing driving challenges—navigating icy terrain, negotiating slippery turns, and of course, battling treacherous hills. I was feeling quite impressed with myself, not to mention invincible, and although not audibly, I’m sure I muttered something like, ‘BRING IT ON!’ within my brazen ego.
Well…it got brought, all right. Within four feet of my expert steering, my wheels gave way and I slid down the hill and straight across Route 22. I must have looked like a disqualified, silver-clad bobsledder as I helplessly whipped across the ice in my ’98 Mercury Tracer. All I remember were the sounds of crunching snow and ice mocking me gently from under the tires as they delivered my car and I into the merciless hands of gravity, and my own voice as it squeaked out a desperate prayer for help that to this day may well be the most pathetic of its kind ever uttered under heaven.
Upon completely clearing the highway, I proceeded to drift to a stop, the terror of the ordeal having petrified me into a spot-on impression of the frozen ground, below. Needless to say, I have never been so glad to see a Kroger food store in my whole life.
Phil Rosensteel ’05
I remember one time during my freshman year at Franciscan when we had a horrible ice storm. Growing up in New Jersey, I had experienced snow and ice storms before, but nothing quite like this. Within a few hours, there was a solid inch of ice covering the entire campus. I was living in Marian at the time, and the ice coating was so bad that it took me and a few friends a solid half hour to walk from there to Tommy More. It was pretty fun, and quite entertaining to attempt to stand and walk on that ice. We spent most of the time on our butts.
Patrick Duffey ’05
As a native Californian, my time at Franciscan was my first experience with having to live with snowy conditions. I kicked what looked to be a big snowball in the street only to realize it was an iced over rock, I walked out of my off-campus house in cowboy boots only to slip and slid down the stairs on the slippery ice underneath that fine powder, I brushed off my windshield with bare hands, and my first semester I took a shower before walking to my 8 a.m. class, only to have icicles forming on my eyelashes by the time I got there. In 2007 there was in ice storm. I remember standing outside on my break from Jazzman’s in awe over the incredible beauty of the trees covered in ice, the tinkling sound it made, the way the light from the moon and street lamps danced every which way after being reflected through the ice. I had never seen anything like that. It was so silent and in that moment I felt like I had entered a fairytale. I'm still not a huge fan of Steubenville winters, but I was so amazed by the beauty that can be created through them and the peace that comes with walking around campus at night with the softly falling snow.
Angela Santoro ’07
Spring 2006 in Gaming, Austria, we had a 100-year record snowfall of more than 5 feet. It snowed so much that the local post office roof caved in. None of us had ever seen so much snow. One weekend when coming home from a trip from Poland, the tour busses almost got stuck in the mountain blizzard. That semester there was also a snowfall that had lightning—we could see it out our dorm windows at the Kartause.
Vicki (McConnell) Gogikar ’08
It was February, and we were in the middle of rugby scrimmage. We were playing in about 4" of snow, and it was the fulfillment of every sportsman's dream of playing in the snow, until someone decided to break my leg and foot. I remember laying in the snow waiting for the ambulance. It was about 10 degrees, the sun was setting, and the best part is that the ambulance couldn't get up the hill! The guys had to go push it up. The main thing I learned: Winter is a bad time for crutches.
Philip Archambault Dec ’08
One year there was a really bad rainstorm, but Agape household in Marian Hall was not ready to call it quits for the night. We cut holes in black trash bags and went to the hill between Francis and the JC. We slid down the muddy hill for hours! We crept back into Marian covered in mud from head to toe. We cleaned up our mess as best as we could, and all hopped in the showers. While talking to each other through the shower stalls, one of the girls started singing ACDC and we all joined in. It is one of my favorite memories of my household.
Michelle Cossentino ‘09
Class of 1994
Two high school teachers first challenged Kevin Schmiesing to do more serious reading about history, a subject that had always fascinated him. Their classes focused on the history of ideas...
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