“As you get older it is harder to have heroes, but it is sort of necessary.”- Ernest Hemingway
My first winter in the car business in the mid-1990s, 30 years ago, instantly cemented my disdain for the powdery precipitation that leaves behind water in solid form. I had already formed my own opinion on snow, shaped by the struggle of digging my car out on winter mornings or knowing that the first sign of snow meant I’d have to brace myself for another long, cold New England winter. Our winters always seem worse from the rear view.
The generation before me tells stories of the dreaded Blizzard of ‘78, the abandoned cars on Route 128, the closure of the entire state, old pictures capturing the chaos. I don’t remember the world’s most famous blizzard; I wasn’t even 3 at the time. But every winter, we are reminded of that historic storm, especially when a new one appears in the forecast.
The storm formed when an extratropical cyclone off the coast of South Carolina collided with an Arctic cold front. Its impact was worsened by the fact that it developed during a new moon, leading to unusually high tides. Over 28 inches of snow fell in Boston, with record-breaking snowfall up and down the East Coast. However, the real devastation came from the wind and tides, which caused severe damage along the New England coast.
The blizzard hit at the beginning of the second week of February and effectively shut down New England for a week—most people in the Commonwealth got a paid week off. The storm caused half a billion dollars in damage (in 1978 money), but the real story is how residents came together to help one another through the crisis.
This storm came less than two weeks after another major blizzard in the Northeast and less than a month after the first Blizzard of ’78 that devastated the Midwest. Folks in the Great Lakes region have their own version of the Blizzard of ’78.
In the auto auction business, inventory is king, the more you have, the more opportunities you create. In fact, this is the truth of all car sales. The automotive industry employs over 8 million people across manufacturing, transportation, sales, service, and industry-related sectors, including auto auctions.
Sales is the world’s oldest profession, despite rumors that another ancient trade holds that title. I’d argue that industry is also sales, after all, nothing moves without someone selling it. But nothing disrupts car sales like a bad stretch of winter weather.
The past few mild winters have spoiled us old-timers in the business and left the newcomers ignorant of the hell we call snow removal. The first news of a pending storm brings immediate anxiety about the preparations needed. If a significant amount of snow is expected, almost an entire day must be spent “snow packing” inventory, stacking vehicles in a section of the lot to create open space for plows, loaders, skid steers, and other equipment to clear the snow. Once that’s done, a team of workers faces the agony of removing snow from the inventory itself.
These money-making machines suddenly transform from valuable assets into a snow-covered headache that must be cleared and moved. Some vehicles cooperate, they start right up, pull out easily, and make life simple. Others need a jump, gas, or air in the tires. Then there are the stubborn ones that refuse to start no matter what tricks of the trade you try, or the ones that get stuck and need to be carefully pulled out without causing damage. And, of course, there’s the occasional lockout. While advancements in lockout kits have made this process easier, certain brands, like Corvettes still make the task frustratingly difficult.
The worst, however, is when the keys to one of your flock go completely missing. Most obstacles in snow removal can be overcome with the right tools, a jump box, a gas can, a lockout kit, or a tow rope, but misplaced keys can bring everything to a grinding halt.
Once all the snow is cleared, every car is moved, and every spot is free of the white, frozen menace, the exhausted snow removal crew finally gets to lick their wounds. They rub aching shoulders, knees, and necks, peel off wet boots and socks, strip off snow pants, and celebrate the hardest day of work they’ll endure all year. Then, at last, they can return to their real job preparing to sell the very cars they just fought so hard to prepare for market.
Snow removal gets in the way of making money, and our bills don’t care that we had to spend a day battling the elements. They just care that we bring in enough to get paid.
I lead a team of people who wake up every day and work tirelessly to ensure our business succeeds. I am nothing without my team. I have the easy job, sitting in a Hyundai HL940 tm loader, moving piles of snow, while I take on the role of commander from my post, carefully balancing leadership without being overly demanding of a team that sacrifices life and limb for our success.
For some reason, I write best between midnight and 5 a.m., and this column is no different. It’s mid-February-the Napoleon of months, short with a huge complex. It could easily be the worst month of the year in the car business. However, as the old saying goes, “the darkest part of the night is just before dawn.” For all its challenges, February also marks the beginning of the busy season. After a tough December and January, Washington’s Birthday gives us a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. As long as we push through, better times are just ahead.
I’m incredibly fortunate to have what I consider the best team in the business working by my side: My plowing partner Bob Merrill, Bob Swasey, John Fortin, Kelly Reil, Tom Sanford, Chris Torres, Andrea O, Mike Flaherty, Albert, Bill Dickson, Ernie Smith, Pete, Gary Ellis, George Harotunian, who was on a snow team in 78, Lucas Bistany, Caden, Louise Howe, Ralph Littlefield, Steve Bellatone, Steve Merrill, Anna Fontaine, Amy Dame, Linda Patch, Dea Penny, Lyndsay Lewin, Jen Kimball, Dina, Dan, Dennis, Joe, and, of course, our father, Keith Moulton. These are my heroes.
I write this after weeks of snow, with more in the forecast. It’s been a long, cold winter, and it’s still early. Thanks to my brother, Anthony Rotsart for reminding me of what a unique job we have. We have been through many years of snow removal together. We have too many stories, like that time in Vegas when I lost my front tooth, but that’s a story for another day.
Thanks for reading, and supporting local journalism. Daily News columnist C.J. Fitzwater lives in Salisbury. Email him at: cfitzwater@ymail.com.