The monster South Dakota blizzard dumped 33 inches and blew ten feet snow drifts, brought down power lines and closed interstates. Their bus driver headed for the nearest Air Force base yesterday afternoon, and got stuck. Big Dog equipment got them out, twice. They ended up in temporary housing, took a hot shower and waited for the expected hot meal at 5 p.m. It never arrived. Lost power after dark, tried to sleep, woke hungry, hoped for breakfast. No food arrived. A military airman came by and shared what he had: two bottles of Gatorade.
I went on line and read the chatter: the dining facility on base had run out of hot food and was hoping to get some MREs for the essential personnel who hadn't been furloughed! The women had decided to WALK to the mess hall in a blizzard, but the airman advised otherwise. Power lines down.
I went on Facebook and sent requests to the Colonel, who was probably too busy with troops to be concerned with civillians. So, I appealed to WIVES of airmen. One responded. Coincidentally (or not) she had the same last name as my best friend, Sheila's maiden name. She offered to feed them, but neither she nor the women could travel to one another because of road conditions.
Some angel heard my plea and my daughter said an hour ago an airmen delivered a few MREs for the women to share. Not the roast beef they were craving. A couple of crackers and slice of meat to share will have to do them for the evening. They were expecting to be home Monday. Now they are saying they may not even leave until Tuesday.
I have always been a fixer, and won't take "no" for an answer when I set my mind to something.
I'm half as exhausted as my daughter, I'm sure, but I am ready for bed at 8:00 p.m. I hope she can sleep.