Martha's Vineyard Band of Snow Shovelers

Nelson Sigelman
4 days ago
2 min read

We were stranded in our house after a historic blizzard struck Martha's Vineyard.

Weather forecasters were positively giddy Sunday as they dug deep into their meteorological lexicon to describe what the National Weather Service described as a “potentially historic blizzard,” barreling up the east coast straight for Martha’s Vineyard (Because we think the Island is the center of the world, we take this personally).

Words like bombogenesis, bomb cyclone, and thunder snow add a certain drama to a forecast of a classic no’theaster (the late Everett Poole of Chilmark insisted it was the “r” and not the “th” that is dropped; “I call it a no’theaster. Because that’s what it is. And that’s how you say it, and that’s how you spell it or write it.”).

Winter Storm Hernando — even Google has no explanation for the name — hit during the February school vacation week, the Island’s absolute quietest time of the year.

My friend usually plows my driveway, but he’s in the Caribbean. Many other Islanders, some with idle plows on their trucks out of the fight, are soaking up the sun in far-flung vacation spots. We are on our own.

As the snow falls and the wind blows, Eversource announced it may take days to restore power to thousands of homes across the Island. Anticipating that my wife and I, and many other Islanders, will be snowed in for some time, I thought of William Shakespeare’s rousing St. Crispin’s Day speech in Henry V, Act IV, Scene III.

On the eve of the Battle of Agincourt, young King Henry tells his outnumbered troops that their buddies back in England, enjoying a pint in the pub, are the ones missing out.

Be happy, you’re here, he says, because the fewer the men, the bigger the share of glory, and think of the future bragging rights.

It is not St. Crispin’s Day, but, with apologies to the bard, he that shovels and plows this week, and sees old age,

Will yearly on the vigil make clam chowder for his neighbours,

And say ‘next week is school vacation week:’

Then will he hold up his gloves and his snow boots.

And say ‘These I wore on Winter Storm Hernando day.’

Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,

But he’ll remember with advantages

What feats he did that day: then shall DPW and plow driver names.

Familiar in his mouth as household words

Metell of Tisbury, Combra of Oak Bluffs, DeBettencourt of Edgartown, Olsen of West Tisbury, Brown of Chilmark, Smalley of Aquinnah and Welch, Maciel and Keene,

Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d.

This story shall the good man teach his son;

And February vacation week shall ne’er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remember’d;

We few, we happy few, we snow-bound band of brothers;

For he that shoveled and plowed snow with me this week

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition:

And Islanders (mostly plumbers, electricians, and school teachers) now on a warm beach elsewhere

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

And hold their Islandhoods cheap whiles any speaks