Survival Mode

The snow just kept falling. My wife Julie and I, having watched the weather last night, packed an overnight bag before limping into work that morning. Most of the staff got to work as well. Shortly after we arrived, a big 18 wheeler blocked the "exit" half of the hotel's entrance drive. The look on his face said it all as the trucker shuffled up to the desk. When we were planning the hotel, we had first drawn the drive more to the West of its ultimate location. That would have resulted in a much more gentle grade but the township engineer was not having any more "T" intersections and we had to cut the road straight up the hill. This was before cell phones were commonplace. "Can I get change for the pay phone?" the unhappy fellow asked. As the desk clerk traded him four quarters for a dollar, I volunteered, "Rivers is the name of the towing company." He gave me a deadpan look. "I guess this isn't the first time." I blamed it on the township.

I woke up at 4 AM. Impossibly, the snow was falling faster now. Most of yesterday afternoon, our snow plow contractor, Bill, had been concentrating on "the hill" and keeping a lane open in the parking lots, but it was a losing battle. He could not get home so I gave him a room. At 2 PM yesterday, I had asked for volunteers, among the employees, to check in and spend the night. I sent everyone else home. At 5 PM, after calling and finding them open and agreeable, we led a large, bundled band of thirty or so, on foot, up the hill and across the Interstate overpass to Mr. Bill's Quarterdeck Restaurant for supper. We were the only ones in the place and I don't know how the few employees who served us got home. After eating and packing the take-out orders into bags, we started trudging back across the bridge toward our hotel. We could not see our tracks! By 7 PM the hotel was full and at 8 PM, the lobby TV said that the Governor had declared a "State of Emergency" and it was against the law to drive!

As dawn broke that morning, we were ready. Our "volunteers" had set out a great breakfast for a full house. We opened and set the meeting room tables and chairs as overflow. After all, just because we ran a limited service hotel, (no restaurant), did not mean we didn't feed our guests. We had coffee, teas, hot cocoa, three kinds of juice, whole milk, skim milk, chocolate milk, fresh fruit, cold cereals, hot cereals, peeled eggs, waffles, sausage patties, danishes, donuts, bagels, English muffins, toast.....well, you get the idea. The only thing you couldn't get at our breakfast was "the check". There were just over 200 people who ate that morning.

It snowed all day. No one could know exactly how much had fallen, since there had been snow on the ground before this latest event began. It was certainly over five feet total and the paths that we kept shoveled at the hotel's four exits looked like tunnels. We notified all the guests that at 5 PM we would put food back out. Somehow the wonderful breakfast wasn't the same but there was still plenty and they ate it. We had some board games and we got them out for the lobby. The coke machines still worked and several long-term guests brought a bottle or two down to share with new friends as the "Risk Tournaments" lasted into the night.

Breakfast, after the second night finally ended, was sullen. We still had food left, but the variety was shrinking. As I looked across the landscape from the front of the hotel, nothing moved and all was silent. The snow had stopped falling sometime during the night and I wondered when the snowplows would start the clean up. It was obvious to me as I pondered the dilemma that no human effort could change the fates that would give us all at least one more night in this seemingly, smaller and smaller, soon foodless, limited service,(very limited), hotel that I was responsible for. I had to find a way to do something. It was time for action!

I called the Supermarket about a mile away and was greeted by a man who identified himself as the Store Manager. He was snowed in with two of his employees. Yes! If I could find a way to get to his store, he would take a company check for anything I wanted. I made a list. My next call found Mr. Bill at his home, (where else would he be?) and he said that he was sorry but there was no way for him to open the restaurant doors. After dismissing the idea of a break in, I asked, "if I can get to your house, would you trust me with the keys?" "Dave, if you can get here, you can have the keys", he said.

One of the "long term" guests was a young man from down south. We had come to know Allen well in the months that he lived with us and liked him allot. He had a large 4x4 pickup with a lift kit installed that looked like a kind of "Big Foot". Bill, The snow plow guy said he would give it a try. Allen, Bill and I assembled the teams. It took all day. I took my place in the bed of Allen's truck and we worked our way toward Mr. Bills neighborhood. The other team headed for groceries. I had to slough through the drifts on foot, as the last few blocks near Mr. Bills were impassable for the truck. Once I neared his home, sweating and huffing up the middle of where I thought the street was, I heard a shout. There was Bill's head, he was standing 20 feet into his driveway from his garage. It was as far as he could manage to get. He was waving and holding the keys in the air like a prize. They were.

The other team had been stopped about a quarter mile from the super market's parking lot. They too would not fail. I loaded cases of beer and wine from the storeroom at the restaurant and left a list of what we took. As the guests enjoyed their ham and cheese sandwiches, cups of soup and a cold beer at supper that evening, they could not hear enough from the "team members" about the adventures that took place to bring this feast home! They were treated like heroes.

By the morning of day four, the interstates had been opened up and the Governor took the driving ban away. Everyone was up early and we all pitched in together to dig out the cars. One by one, the guests joined in the task of helping each other. It was something to see and the momentum built upon itself so that all of the cars were freed in no time at all. People helping each other.

"Dave, we have a problem at the desk." the voice was my wife. Once inside, I saw a thirtyish couple standing at the desk. They were well dressed and had their coats and hats on with suitcases at their feet. It was explained to me by an exasperated desk clerk, who like the rest of us was working doubles on very little sleep, that these guests were checking out and had refused to pay! "Hi, my name is Dave and I'm the manager of the hotel." I smiled. "How can I help you?" The fellow looked me in the eye for a moment and sighed, "We want to leave and you wouldn't let us leave until today", he seethed at me in a thick French accent. "We pay for stay, you not let us leave, we not pay more to you." I looked the guest folio over hoping that there was a credit card that I could charge. Cash in advance, two nights paid, three nights stayed. I tried to reason with him as his wife stood a little way off staring embarrassingly at her expensive shoes. He became surly. He began to denigrate the hotel and its employees. He found my last nerve.

When the man finally pulled the Canadian hundred dollar bill out of his pocket, the police officer had just said, "You have a choice to make and you have ten seconds to make it!" "Like this hotel manager and his staff, I have been working around the clock for days to keep people safe in an emergency." "Either pay for the room or I will take you to jail!" He had found the cop's last nerve as well. The officer looked from the funny money to me with a "what now" look when the guest stated, "Eese all I have." I smiled. "At the current rate of exchange, it seems that $100 Canadian is the precise balance owed", I lied. I turned to the clerk, "Please post cash to zero this guest's account." "Thank you", I said to no one in particular. They scowled at me and left.

"I guess it's true what they say", said my officer friend, after they were out the door. "No good deed ever goes unpunished."