Russian Blond in the American Snow Storm
My first few months of driving in America went almost uneventfully—aside from running a few red lights and accidentally driving on the wrong side of the road. Then, in September of 1996, a snowstorm hit Kansas City and the surrounding areas. The sky turned gray, and the snowflakes, larger and fluffier than cotton balls, covered the car from the front, the sides, and the back. I rushed to pick up my son from school early, only to find myself stuck in traffic. Slowly inching forward on Shawnee Mission Parkway, I realized I had a problem: my visibility was getting worse while I frantically searched for the wipers button. Slowly inching forward on Shawnee Mission Parkway, I realized I had a problem: my visibility was getting worse while I frantically searched for the wiper button, twisting a knob that seemed promising—nothing happened. I panicked. Are they frozen? Is the snow too heavy? The world outside of my car had turned into a swirling blur of white, while I continued moving...