As I have mentioned in some of my earlier blogs, I was raised in Tewksbury, Massachusetts, a small town not far from Lowell, Mass. Most winters were very cold and snow was always expected. Some years the snow was deeper than others but we always got snow.
One winter evening I was in my next door 
neighbor’s yard. We were competing against each other to see which one of us could throw a snowball from his yard to the street. This was no small feat for two reasons. We were standing approximately 120 feet from the street and the street was lined with pine trees on both sides. It was early evening but still dark out. From the street you could see where your snowball landed because the street lights would show the impact. If your throw lodged into the trees, no impact could be seen!
The best approach for the throw was to arc the snowball over the trees and let it drop onto the street. Kind of like the ‘Hail Mary’ pass in football. Throw it on a high arc, clear the trees and drop it into the street. We were doing this with limited success. What was making the throw most difficult besides dropping it between the trees was your ability to pack the snowball tight enough to withstand the initial launch and not be too heavy to make the distance. You didn’t want the snowball to break apart as soon as you released it! After each throw we enjoyed chiding each other when the throw didn’t make it. “My next throw”, I thought, “would be right on target!”
As I released the snowball I knew it would have the distance but not sure if I could drop it in the street. One thing is for sure…it was terrible timing. Immediately after I released it a car appeared from our right traveling slowly down the snow covered street. My friends and I stood in fear as we watched the car approach the point were our snowballs were landing. Then, SPLAT! The snowball landed at the base of the windshield. You could see it splatter across the windshield and up over the car. The perfect throw. To our amazement the car moved along as if nothing happened. We were equally shocked to see it return moving even slower than before as if the driver was hunting for those darn kids that threw the snowball.
Having immediately assessed the situation two of us bolted for the woods behind our houses. Our neighbor remained saying, “I’m not leaving. I didn’t do it.” Besides, it was his yard. We waited on the snow covered ground huddled behind some fallen trees. We waited and waited. When we thought we’d waited long enough, we waited some more. The cold, damp conditions finally got the best of us and we left, each to his home.
As I entered our house from the back porch I heard a commotion at the front door. In the living room I saw my mother and older brother John arguing with a man at the door. My mother was saying, “If he said he didn’t do it, then he didn’t do it!” Hmmm. Could it be? My older brother was going to take the blame? Cool! Alas, my conscience got the better of me and I approached the door, confessed my actions to both of them and apologized to the man, explaining it was all very innocent. Like he believed me huh?
The next day we learned from the boy next door that the man drove into his driveway, began yelling at him and went so far as the hit him. Even though I knew it was not right nor fair, I chuckled to myself. “He should have run away with us.” I thought. And, yes I apologized to him and his mother for not remaining there and accepting responsibility for my actions, which while very innocent carried consequences nonetheless.
