Toledo experienced the snowiest winter in history, and one of the coldest. Temperatures frequently dropped below zero. Snow became a varying level of emergency to fear, like a natural disaster or an alien invasion. Instead of actual reporting, local TV stations simply showed live footage of cars slipping through intersections and crashing into snow banks. Despite the arctic adversity, two small towns persevered through winter’s callous backhand, and held festivals to celebrate the season of discontent.
Sleds, chili and snowballs
Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” blared from a white tent filled with steaming chili pots, while a horse-drawn wagon transported sledders to a hill as tall as an amusement park waterslide. The village of Whitehouse’s 4th Annual Winterfest was a sunny, cold day with a high temperature of 17 degrees, and a wind chill of awesome.
Kids flew down the smooth, steep hill behind the Whitehouse Library on sleds, inflatable inner tubes and wok frying pans. Onlooking parents cringed while their children crashed, and the intro to the Surfari’s “Wipeout” repeatedly played in the back of my head, and the kids kept popping back up—red-faced and smiling for more.
Tony Packo, a man I presumed spent his time glad-handing at charity fundraisers and making it rain hot pickles at industry parties, stirred tirelessly over an iron pot at the chili cook-off. His chicken chili was sweet, thick and hearty. He narrowly lost to the nearby Whitehouse restaurant, Local Thyme. Its batch was cheesy and smoky, with enough zest to cut through the frigid air.
I competed in the snowball throwing contest, and I felt certain to win. My competition was a skinny 16-year-old named Patrick and a toughened, middle-aged man named Bob. I stripped off my jacket, stretched my throwing shoulder like an Olympic shot-putter, and let it rip. Out of three competitors, my throw distinctly came in last place. Bob won, but Whitehouse Community Development Coordinator, Barbara Knisely, still awarded me a bronze medal during the closing ceremony. My feet were cold and numb, my shoulder was sore and unimpressive, but I left Winterfest as a medalist.
National spotlight, wine
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Perrysburg Winterfest began six years ago when a few residents wanted to showcase their ice carvings. The Louisiana Avenue event has steadily grown into a full weekend of events, including beer and wine tastings, foods from local restaurants and clowns and singing characters for kids. “It is a time of year that people are stuck inside,” said Rick Thielen, executive director of Downtown Perrysburg, Inc. Winterfest gives the cabin-fevered a chance to emerge from their dens like hopeful groundhogs.
Ice carvings are the heart of the festival. What began as a neighborhood demonstration has morphed into the National Ice Carving Championship. Competitors around the country must qualify to have the opportunity to compete. They transformed faceless slabs of ice into works of art. They used chainsaws, blow torches, metal irons and chisels to construct giant ice creatures that looked like they were pulled from the dreams of George R. R. Martin [author of A Song of Ice and Fire, the basis of Game of Thrones.]
Saturday's wine tasting brought together hundreds of people to try wines from around the world. Merlot in hand, I watched the ice-carving winners accept medals, more impressive than the snowball bronze dangling from my rearview mirror. The winners hugged each other, elated and teary-eyed. Around them, a town rejoiced; impervious to the outdoor air. If for just a moment, people found themselves grateful for winter.
Dorian Slaybod is 27, a local attorneyand happily living in Toledo.
