Blizzard Escape

I learned at an early age, when Mother Nature hands you a blizzard, you escape to sand and sunshine.

Some families plan vacations months in advance.

Mine once fled Michigan in an hour because of a blizzard.

It was springtime — which in Michigan means anything from daffodils to disaster — and on this particular day, disaster was winning. The forecast was grim, the roads were getting worse by the minute, and my dad was on his way to work in his Datsun 280Z when he decided enough was enough.

He turned the car around.

Then he called my mom.

“Pack the kids. Pack us a bag. We’re getting out of here. We’re going to the airport.”

That was it. No destination. No reservations. Just urgency, instinct, and a father who knew when to pivot.

Within hours, we were at Detroit Metro Airport. Tickets were purchased. A gate was announced. And before we fully understood what was happening, we were on a plane headed somewhere warm.

Florida, as it turned out.

While Michigan was being buried under snow, we were suddenly barefoot, squinting in the sun, and doing what kids do best — frolicking in the sand, blissfully unaware that this was not how most families handled bad weather.

There was only one small problem.

My little sister Katie was supposed to be having her birthday party.

She was turning five years old, and while we were escaping winter like fugitives, Aunt Barbara was back in Detroit with the unenviable task of calling all the parents to cancel the party.

“Hi, this is Katie’s aunt…

No, she’s not sick…

Yes, they left town…

Florida.”

I imagine the pause on the other end of the line.

That was our family in a nutshell: spontaneous exits, unconventional solutions, and someone always left behind to handle logistics.

I don’t remember all the details yet. I’ll have to ask my dad and Aunt Barbara to fill in the blanks. But I remember the feeling: that when things got messy, my parents chose adventure. When the weather turned ugly, we turned south. And when life threw a storm our way, we packed a bag and trusted that sunshine was waiting somewhere else.

So if you’re wondering why I’m always ready to go, why I don’t panic when plans change, or why I treat airports like second homes — blame the blizzard we escaped, the birthday party that never happened, and a dad who taught me early on that when life hands you a storm…you pack a bag and go somewhere warm!

From Juju with love 💙✈️☀️