The Blizzard of 1978 has always been in a “cloud file” in my mind – still 48 years later.
The Blizard of 1978 was historic, emotional and healing for me as I was a senior at Providence College (PC) in Providence, RI where the community came together only a month after a devastating and deadly fire on campus.
A number of friends – from PC and other colleges — back me up as you will read here. I also was able to retrieve from historical recollections from the Providence College archives and also from the Providence Journal newspaper. Special thanks to all of them.
The Blizzard of 78 still has impact today as it recently hit me again when a rare snowstorm hit the Carolina Coast where I live now.
Granted, the surprise 5 to 8 inches of snow down South on January 22, 2025 was nothing compared to the 3 1/2 feet dumped on the East Coast and New England nearly a half century ago on February 5-7, 1978.
But Southern folks were paralyzed for the recent 3 or 4 days thanks to the surprise snow and in some places near hurricane winds. Many places down here hadn’t seen any snow in 6 years. And they had never witnessed the back-end Polar Vortex that froze the snow in place that usually melts below the Mason-Dixon in a matter of hours.
The reaction down south here was similar to the Blizzard of 1978 which also had hurricane force winds, coastal flooding, causing widespread disruption, shutting down businesses, schools, and transportation systems. Many residents were stranded in their homes, and roads were impassable for days.
Like the northeast in 1978, the south was not ready or equipped with snow removal apparatus and technology. However, the south has weather technology now that the northeast did not have in 1978 that can quickly diagnose the severity of storms today.
I witnessed how that technology dramatically changed during my news anchor years from the 1990s until the early 2010s where I anchored breaking newscasts with highly trained meteorologists who could pinpoint a tornado’s location touchdown to a specific neighborhood.
We had nothing like that in 1978.
Watching The Blizzard Swarm
I was in an 8:30 am Monday class on Hemingway. If Roger Pearson, PhD, one of my favorite lit teachers, was talking about Snows of Kilimanjaro it would be profound, but I don’t remember. I do remember looking out the window and watching the snow start to cover the campus grounds. An hour later at the end of the class, there was at least two or three inches.
One of my professors Rev. Stu McPhail told the Providence College archives that he saw the same thing.
“I’m not sure anybody thought it was going to be as severe as it was. But when the storm came, it was very orderly, considering everything. Our rec room was facing straight out with long windows, and I remember seeing the snow, and it was very tiny flakes. I said to one of the priests there, ‘It looks like this is going to be a very good storm because of the size of the flakes.’ And they weren’t soft … it was like getting hit with little pins. It just kept coming and coming and coming.”
Jack Loughran, PC Class of 1980, from the PC Archives, remembered trying to walk to Raymond Hall Cafeteria for dinner.
“The storm got worse as the day went on. Walking from Hotel (really a dorm) Fennell to Raymond Caf for dinner, you couldn’t see the person in front of you. Fortunately, no one got lost. The storm was done the next day, but the damage was done: classes cancelled for the rest of the week, state of emergency in R.I., no driving allowed.”
My long-time friends at other colleges lived through it too.
Debbie Clark was in Nursing School at Syracuse University, a place that is in snow country.
“I was stuck in apartment on campus. One of few times classes ever had been cancelled in school history. Nothing including highways were passable.”
Another long-time friend, Ken Hyne, was a senior at Drew University in New Jersey, where classes were also cancelled.
“I remember walking to the town amidst snowball fights and taking the trays from the cafeteria for sledding down some pretty good hills.”
Rob Claflin was at Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut.
“It was the first time that classes were called off due to weather in Trinity college history since 1823. In the old days, most professors lived on campus, so Trinity always held classes, despite inclement weather.”
Those are three of my buddies from our hometown of West Hartford. The Blizzard of 78 would have a profound effect on the state and its politics which I got a chance to cover a few years after in the late 1980s.
When the blizzard hit, CT Governor Ella Grasso was tanking in the polls for re-election. That changed thanks to the Blizzard of 78.
Governor Grasso declared a state of emergency immediately. She closed all roads to non-emergency vehicles, allowing emergency services and snow removal crews to work unimpeded clearing the roads faster than any other state. She utilized the Connecticut National Guard to assist in rescue operations, snow removal, and aid distribution, deploying them strategically to the hardest-hit areas. Plus, she was on radio and TV giving regular updates on the storm’s progress and safety instructions. She won re-election easily that November. Grasso’s adept management during the Blizzard of 1978 remains a textbook example of crisis leadership, where decisive action, clear communication, and efficient organization can mitigate the challenges of natural disasters and positively influence political outcomes.
In Rhode Island, the roads stayed unplowed for days later compared to neighboring Connecticut.
But at PC, we were dealing with more than just a devastating blizzard as my roommate Dan Foster recalls.
Many of us PC students were still numbed by the horrible and deadly fire at Aquinas Hall that killed 7 female students and injured 16 others less than two months before on December 13, 1977.
Dan recently recalled for me.
“We came back a week early In January to take finals that had been postponed due to the campus fire in December. The spring semester classes were to start a couple of days later. Then the snow started. Classes were cancelled. Professors couldn’t get to campus. Snowballs began flying! Finally, with nothing to do and nowhere to go.”
Dan, a theater major and a mainstay of the many PC stage productions, said his theater buddies took advantage of the Blizzard despite the heavy hearts.:
“The student musical director decided to have rehearsals with the principals to tackle the challenging music in Candide. The irony was not lost on us that we were doing a musical about “The Best of All Possible Worlds” following the December fire and now the blizzard! But we actually thought it might be good to concentrate on something positive. We gathered in a small rehearsal room and began. It was very difficult music to learn, but we just drilled and drilled until we got it. I remember the moment we finally sang the opening number. We all hugged. Only 12 more songs to learn!”
The production got rave reviews from the student body weeks later.
The fire was still front and center as Aquinas Hall was in the middle of the campus that we all passed each day. I still recall the late-night early morning hours when Dan and I ran to the site to see the fire and rescue crews and the horrific response of students who had witnessed it all.
It was numbing. It dominated and clouded the joy for many of us during the Christmas of 1977 and the 1978 New Year’s celebrations
I think that deadly disaster that closed the campus early in December made the blizzard in February not as devastating. It was my first time seeing in person an Air National Guard chopper making frequent landings on campus to deliver food and supplies. That’s something you only saw in Third World disaster areas, I thought.
Still, we were young active kids with futures, and nothing was going to keep us down.
Another long-time PC buddy Neal O’Hurley and his roommate Jim Dalton were asked to pitch in to help get food for all of us.
“We were asked by someone at PC to drive to a warehouse in North Providence to pick up food for the cafeteria. Jim had an old 4-wheel drive Jeep Commando, and it was one of the only ways to get food on to the campus. We drove to the warehouse on small side streets and all we could see on the roadside were the roofs of parked cars. Got to the warehouse and loaded up countless boxes of frozen French fries etc. inside and strapped to the front hood and roof. Saved hundreds of students lives with emergency delivery of French fries. Crazy time.”
Despite Neal, Jim’s, and the National Guard’s efforts it was not easy to keep thousands of students fed – which nearly revoked our (laughingly) Catholic observances, as Jack Loughran, again from the archives, remembers:
“Raymond Hall started to run low on food. Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, and we had ham steak (so much for abstinence). Eventually, food was delivered by helicopters landing on Raymond Field, and Raymond was open to all.”
My longtime friend and traveling partner, Steve Kennedy, who later in 1978 would trek for three months through Europe with me with our backpacks and our insatiable appetites, had a journey of his own during the Blizzard. He and fellow classmate Gregg Nebel worked on-campus security that quickly led to some off-campus work, as Steve recounted to me:
“Gregg and I were the two security supervisors for the week since the normal rent a cops couldn’t make it to work! I ran the day shift and Gregg took the night shift. We organized in-coming chopper flights with teams of kids to unload the food and even help pregnant women out of the choppers to shuttle them one block over to Lying In Hospital (now Women & Infants Hospital) to give birth. There were several that were induced into labor by the low pressure of the storm. The third night of the storm, I was walking down Eaton Street on top of cars when a column of headlights came up the hill. It was the National Guard’s massive bulldozer followed by three oil tank trucks to refill the reserves on campus. The driver and State cop told me to jump on board and show them where to go. I radioed Gregg and he tracked down the maintenance guys at the physical plant that was almost out of oil. We did a lot of crazy shit that week!”
Steve and Gregg weren’t the only ones. The President of Roger Williams Hospital sent a thank you note to more than 100 PC students who served as volunteers during the five days of isolation. From the archives of the PC Cowl Newspaper, March 8, 1978:
“Each day after the first day of the storm, groups of students walked from the campus to the hospital to offer their help in any and every way.… They served food to our patients; they folded laundry; they answered phones in administrative offices; they washed dishes; they shoveled snow…. There is no question that without their help, the services we were able to maintain for our patients would have been seriously altered.”
Then, PC students rescued RI Governor Garrahy. Also from The Cowl on Feb. 15, 1978:
“Governor Garrahy almost didn’t make it to the State House last Tuesday. He was stuck in a snowdrift at PC while traveling to the State House early Tuesday morning. It seems that the governor was being transported from his home in the Mount Pleasant section of the city to the State House down Eaton Street, trying to avoid clogged Smith Street from there. Well, it got stuck. So Garrahy went to the closest shelter — PC’s Guzman Hall — to telephone for help. They didn’t need help. Residents of Guzman literally lifted Garrahy, his driver and the jeep out of the snowdrifts and got it going to the State House.”
Now, we were also living in a time when the drinking age was lowered to 18. I can recall first-hand the numerous nearby package stores were sold out thanks to PC students.
Yes, there was a lot of drinking. At night, what else would you do? There were no classes. Nothing was open. So, you gathered with friends and libations. That also led to a lot of romance apparently – and more.
No one has verified this, but I remember three months later during graduation ceremonies in May there were five unexpected marriage announcements by PC couples. I won’t name names here. But if you’re reading this and you were born in November of 1978 and your parents were PC grads then you might be a blizzard baby. Let us know here.
PC is also the home and the tradition of the Friars – especially Friar Basketball.
And the Blizzard of 1978 was putting a stop to the biggest game on the 1977-78 schedule – a home game at the Providence Civic Center against the highly-rated North Carolina Tar Heels. T.F. Green Airport was closed just like the roads. So, the Tar Heels couldn’t fly in and even if they did who would go?
But no. Friar spirit and the help of the state of Rhode Island and the city of Providence was able to give PC Hoops and the PC Community one of its more memorable moments.
The Providence Sunday Journal on Feb. 2, 2003, on the 25th anniversary of the blizzard captured it perfectly.
By Saturday, Feb. 11, Providence city workers were able to clear off one Rhode Island Public Transit Authority bus and send it to T.F. Green Airport, escorted by four-wheel-drive emergency vehicles. The bus got to the airport just as the first non-emergency airplane was permitted to land. The plane carried the University of North Carolina basketball team, ranked seventh in the nation at the time.
North Carolina was ferried into a still-closed Providence to play the Providence College Friars on Sunday afternoon, in a nationally televised game at the Civic Center.
Because the city streets were closed, all of the 6,863 fans who made it to the game walked. They came from as close as the old downtown train station, where fans from Westerly and Mystic, Conn., had been delivered by Amtrak, to as far as Cranston, Johnston and Warwick.
It was a game that lived in PC basketball history. The Friars defeated North Carolina, 71-69, on a baseline jump shot by Billy Eason with 21 seconds left.
Officials thought of cancelling the game, but [Governor] Garrahy and then-Providence Mayor Vincent A. Cianci, Jr. thought it would be good to play. “An event like this will give everybody a boost,” Cianci said at the time. “It will show the nation the fiber and strength of Rhode Islanders in the face of a great national disaster.”
Yup. And Dan and I remember making the two hour walk from campus to the Civic Center to be there and witness some PC history.
Jack Loughran, from the PC Archives, summed it up perfectly:
“On Sunday, the men’s hoop team was scheduled to play UNC at the Civic Center. The Tar Heels supposedly got a lift from the National Guard, and the nationally televised game went on. Since there was still a driving ban, only those who could walk to the game could get there. Half-court seats for all, a creative sign stating ‘Hi Mom. Send Shovels’ and a Friar upset win.”
Yup. We beat the Tar Heels. The Friars were led by Billy Eason and Bruce “Soup” Campbell, two of our stars who are unfortunately no longer with us to celebrate the memories with us. But we toast them even today.
Yes, February 1978 will be a big part of New England, Rhode Island, PC and my history.
And the Blizzard itself holds a lot for the rest of the nation too. Consider all this:
Economic Planning: The economic impact was substantial due to the closure of businesses and the cost of cleanup. It highlighted the need for improved emergency response systems and infrastructure planning.
Infrastructure: In the aftermath, states affected by the storm, including Rhode Island, re-evaluated their emergency preparedness and infrastructure. This led to better snow removal strategies and updated emergency protocols. Investment in more robust road maintenance equipment and technology to manage power supplies, has improved resilience against severe weather. Communication technology advancements also allow for better coordination during emergencies.
Weather Technology: The Blizzard of 1978 is often cited in meteorological studies as a benchmark for future storm comparisons, emphasizing the importance of accurate forecasting and timely warnings. Weather forecasting has significantly advanced since 1978. Today, meteorologists use sophisticated models, satellite data, and real-time analytics to predict storms with greater accuracy and lead time, helping communities prepare more effectively.
Emergency Preparedness: The blizzard highlighted the importance of emergency preparedness. Governments and communities now have detailed emergency plans, including designated shelters, resources for vulnerable populations, and strategies for quick response and recovery.
Public Awareness Campaigns: Public awareness of weather dangers has increased, and campaigns educate people on preparing for storms, including assembling emergency kits, knowing evacuation routes, and staying informed through reliable sources.
Building Codes and Zoning Laws: The blizzard prompted stricter building codes and zoning laws in many areas to ensure structures can better withstand extreme weather. This includes considerations for snow loads and resilient energy systems.
Community and Government Collaboration: Enhanced collaboration between government agencies and community organizations has led to more comprehensive support systems for residents, ensuring timely assistance and resource distribution.
Regarding subsequent storms, there have indeed been other significant weather events, but the impact has generally been mitigated, many would say, by these advancements.
So, I raise a glass to my PC family for great memories that have lasted a long time while we have, in many ways, helped lots of others.
If you have any memories to add or if I need some correcting on my recollections, feel free to add them on the page you read this.
John Daly is a 1978 Graduate of Providence College with a BA in English. He is a TV Host and author. He is the co-host and co-creator of Undercover Jetsetter, along with Susan Anzalone, a streaming TV show on travel, food, and booze. John’s travel escapades started as a PC student when he studied in Italy in Pietrasanta between his junior and senior years. John is also a member of the Nevada Hall of Fame Broadcaster from his years as a news anchor in Las Vegas that followed his years as an anchor/reporter at WPRI-TV in Providence and WFSB-TV in Hartford. He gained international fame as the host of the first all-video news magazine show, Real TV. You can follow Undercover Jetsetter on the free Wingding app on the Food and Travel Channels, on YouTube, DBTV, Canyon Star TV, Facebook, X, and Instagram.