“I found another road that’s shorter,” he said when we arranged to meet at the Student Union building for coffee. Mark’s eight-year-old Chrysler had four bald tires and no reverse gear, but with the chains he’d borrowed for the rear tires, he assured me we’d be fine.
No one going to the Upheaval would wait until ten o’clock to leave.
That would be madness since the drive took at least an hour each way.
Most left campus by five or six o’clock that afternoon.
Desk duty was the responsibility of Wickersham’s residents and rotated among them.
She was divorced, with a young son and she favored married men.
One afternoon, we were having lunch, brown-bag style, when we started talking about psychic phenomena.I squirmed around and tried to open my door, but it was mashed against the snow bank Mark turned off the radio and headlights to save gas and the battery. The vast black sky and tumbling white flakes were surreal in the heavy silence. I had no feelings of death or even frostbite, although that was close.I was more worried about getting back to the dorm late. Mark periodically flipped on the headlights to alert anyone who might be looking for us.It turned out that one of her friends, Bob Penny of Penny’s Trailer Sales, regularly consulted a local psychic.“A lot of Anchorage businessmen check with her before making important decisions,” Connie said, opening a bag of potato chips.As we climbed, the road grew icier and narrower and the snow began smacking the windshield like a wet towel. About an hour later, the snow dropped even more heavily and we kept sliding over the edge of the road. The temperature had fallen and we lost our chains at least four times.