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Tues. M[ar]ch 13, '88
My dear papa,
By the time that my letter reaches you, you will know all the particulars of the famous snowstorm as it came upon us here. It snowed all Sunday night, all day Monday it came howling down through the gale. Tuesday morning. This morning, it had ceased. I have nothing in my experience to compare it too. We are snow-bound cut entirely off from the world. All Monday no one could get out
Quite early in the morning the men began to make a path to the lodge. The snow is 4 ft or 3 1/2 on a level but the wind was so strong that in some places the ground is bare. the biggest drift is outside one of the dining-room windows. It is more than 12 feet high, the men say. Another tremendous one is by the door leading to the Museum. They have made a path through it now. It is like walking through a tunnel. The banks are high
[crossed out] This morning in Po'keepsie not a single snow-shoe
This P.M. a number of the girls were out with snow-shoes, walking to the tops of these mountains of snow. The snows so loose that they went down quite a little
Last evening another installment of snow was sent down. But the world could not look whiter than it did yesterday. The tunnels (the paths) are filled up quite a little that is all.
We have no mail yet. But someone brought out a Po'keepsie paper. It seems the snow is more if anything in town. It is impossible to cut a horse-car track through the streets for what can they do with all the snow. There is a track for sleighs -- that is a tunnel.
After all this, letters won't go today even no trains have
I am sorry that my letter looks so badly, but my pen is not to be trusted. Not it won't write, soon it will blot again, I expect. So before it does, I will stay,
Your loving daughter,
Julia