It was the best of snow, it was the worst of snow.

Any chance I get to spend some time with my Grandfather (we call him Pep), he loves taking strolls down memory lane. It's halfway through February and we have yet to see a significant snowstorm embrace us here on the SouthCoast. It had me thinking: what was the city of Fall River like back in the 1930's?

Pep may be getting old, but at the age of 91, his mind and memory are still as sharp as ever. It amazes me at how much he remembers and how vivid his stories are. The local tie-ins to his life truly bring out the golden days of Fall River through every story he tells.

Reminiscing on the good ol' days of being a kid and sledding down by the Flint gave me that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. It reminded me that he was once a young fella, just like myself, and dealt with the crazy New England weather that honestly should not be a surprise to anybody. Every year, it's going to snow and the roads are going to be slippery and the hills are going to be sledded down.

If there are words of advice and wisdom my Pep always preaches, it's too stay young as long as you can and hold onto the memories with all that you can. You just never know who you might tell them to someday years from now.


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