February 2020 – Richard Hopkins Writes

It seems like I vaguely remember seeing bits of the 1976 Winter Olympic Games on television. I was only three years old, and Mama said there was no way I could have remembered it. At any rate, I was fired up and ready for the 1980 Winter Olympic Games at Lake Placid. Not just fired up, but completely obsessed.

Things were much different then, at least at my house in rural North Georgia. We got all three, yes three, major television channels, plus Superstation, which was a network owned by Ted Turner. Of course, these stations were “streaming” through our black and white 19 inch set, so it definitely was NOT like being there. I’m pretty sure that we were the last family in America to purchase a color television. I think it was around 1988 when my dad, The Biggest Tightwad in America, finally broke down and made the purchase. Thankfully, we at least had cable by 1980 and I wasn’t having to hold the rabbit ears so Daddy could watch wrasslin’ and Star Track (yes, in our house it was never Trek.)

We had a fair amount of snow during the winter of 1979-80, and in keeping with the Olympic theme, I carved a pair of miniature bobsleds for my three-inch action figures. Once it snowed, I made a mini-scale bobsled run on a small hill in our front yard. I even made a flag for the finish. Daddy later cut me out a goalie mask from cardboard in homage to Jim Craig, the star goalie of the 1980 U.S. Team. I would set up a TV tray in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, put on the mask and let Daddy fire Nerf balls at me while he was sitting in his old brown chair, drinking beer and watching wrasslin’ as I defended the goal.

Yesterday was February 22, 2020. The Game was 40 years ago yesterday. Wow 40 years… How time flies. The Miracle on Ice. Likely the best sporting moment in our history. The U.S. Hockey team beat the Soviets 4-3 on home ice at Lake Placid. I watched the game on pins and needles as only a seven-year-old boy could, inches away from the 13” black and white television in my room. No one believed it was possible except Coach Herb Brooks and his boys on the ice. The best way to put the matchup into perspective would be to field a D2 college basketball team against the original Dream Team. It was that lopsided. With Mike Eruzione’s goal well into the final period, the American crowd went wild. The college boys had pulled ahead of the Russian juggernaut with only minutes left in the game.

Of course, every red-blooded American sports fan has Al Michaels’ call during the final seconds committed to memory. I still get chills when I hear it. Now the Miracle on Ice team has AARP cards and I’m getting closer to it myself. Forty years… wow. But I still have the bobsleds and the mask. I wish Daddy was still here to throw some Nerf balls.

Daddy always loved a good snow. He was child-like pacing the kitchen floor, constantly flipping on the back porch light during the night to see if it had begun. Of course, boots had been oiled and sat ready to put on for sledding and snowball fights. If the snow came during the night the two of us would be up at first light. Mama was in the kitchen making breakfast for us before the foolishness began. Later in the day she’d always have coffee and hot chocolate ready for us.

I was four years old the first time that I saw snow in real life. I saw it on television, but we didn’t get any snowfall for a few years. I was so excited for that first snow. Daddy took me outside and pitched me into it, pajamas and all.

For some reason Daddy always built up a fire when it snowed in the antique wood stove we had in the basement. It was an antique Home Atlantic parlor stove with a flat top which we could keep water and coffee warm on for when we didn’t want to undress and go back into the house. He made my first sled from scrap lumber in his shop and used roof flashing on the runners to make them slide. It weighed more than I did, but wow, did it haul down the hillside. Later I would get a store-bought wood and metal sled, but that home-made job was always the fastest.

On one occasion we went to the old homeplace on Bridge Creek to sled. Between the orchard and the home of my Uncle Rip was an epic hill for sledding. We spent most of the day over there sledding with my cousins Doug and Ricky.

Every time we got a good snow, we took off riding around in whatever old Jeep we had sitting in the yard at the time. Forget all the “roads are unsafe so stay at home stuff.” We must have hit every back road in the county just being nosey and taking pictures. Sometimes Mama went, other times she stayed at home to “send out the search party” if we didn’t make it back. Good times indeed.

As the years passed, we spent more time riding and exploring and less time with sledding and having snowball fights. Charles Dickerson, our family’s best friend, was almost always with us. When it snowed Charles always brought out his Browning down jacket, Daddy grabbed his cowboy hat, and we would pile into his old blue Chevy Blazer and headed out. If Daddy was child-like with his love of snow, him and Charles together were a hoot. Charles was one of the most fun-loving people I ever knew, and the two of them were a hoot. We never really had destinations; we just went on whatever roads we could get through. Through all the years and all the adventures, we never were never stranded in the snow.

Charles rocking the vintage Browning puff jacket

It’s dumping snow right now. The last forecast I heard before bedtime last night called for somewhere between a dusting and four inches. We have six inches of the white stuff now and it’s just tapering off.

I wish Daddy and Charles were still here to go play. They’d have a blast today. I’m sure they’re together watching it from Heaven. Maybe they had God send it so I would remember… They don’t need to worry; I’ll never forget. I miss you, Guys.

Month: February 2020

1980 Winter Olympics Came to Rabun County

Fun in the Snow