Working through the snow

YORK takes on a fairytale appearance when its ancient walls and buildings are draped in snow.

It is great for the kids - and for tourists who get to see the city in its winter finery. It is not so wonderful, however, for those of us who have to endure the icy conditions while getting on with our daily lives.

Despite the efforts of gritters, motorists have been cursing the icy spell as they slip, slide and bump their way to work.

At least most of them have warm offices to go to when they complete the journey. But what about the poor souls who spend their entire working day outside ....

The policewoman

Police community support officer Karen Rycroft spent most of Monday patrolling miserably around Chapelfields and Acomb in a blizzard, hoping someone would invite her in for a warming cup of tea. No one did. "People think we're traffic wardens," she joked. "We're not! We don't deal with parking at all."

It is Karen's job to patrol her beat on foot most of the day. The former credit manager says that occasionally, when the weather is like it has been this week, she dreams of her days sitting in a warm office.

"I've been out in it all week," she says, her voice croaky with cold. "Monday was dreadful. It's hard work just walking through it all. We have fleeces and jumpers and high visibility jackets, but when you start getting wet and damp it gets freezing."

She wouldn't swap it for her old job, however - the 37-year-old has always wanted to work with the police. She's kept smiling through the snow. "I can't say I'm enjoying it at the moment, but I'm looking forward to summer."

The street cleaner

Paul Willey loves the snow. He and his team of six council street cleaners have spent much of the week doing a good impersonation of snowmen, he says. It has been normal shifts, starting at 5.30am, 7.30am or 10.30am - although they are on standby to be called out at any time of day or night to help with gritting.

They haven't been able to use much of their ordinary equipment this week. "But we have been out litter picking," says Paul, the city centre supervisor.

And there is always the chance for a bit of a lark.

"We had a snowball fight when we were clearing a path through the snow in St Sampson's Square," he says. "At 8.30 in the morning, as people went over the cleared path, we were letting a few snowballs off. When they looked back to see what had happened, we were all busy clearing the path."

Working in winter is no problem, he says. He and his team have been kitted out in nice new council fleeces. "So we're wrapped up warm. We've got to do the job in winter, so we just accept it."

The Roman tour guide

Wednesday lunchtime, snow falling from the sky, and tour guide Keith Mulhearn is out in the cold wearing what amounts to little more than a skirt (it's a Roman soldier's costume) and sandals. "I can feel the wind whistling around my legs," he says.

He makes no excuses for wearing thick red socks with his sandals. Or rather, he does: claiming to have seen a letter written 2,000 years ago by a real Roman soldier serving in Britain to his mum in Europe. "It went: 'Dear mum, I'm here in England. It is very cold, please send me some socks and undies,'" he says. A likely story.

The market trader

Justin Ward, who works on his father's mobile phone stall at York market, is putting a brave face on it. At least he has a roof of sorts over his head, he says, as fat flakes of snow drift in under the canopy. "We could do with central heating, though."

Traders are used to bad weather and tend to put up with it, he says. But on Monday, when the blizzard was at its worst, they decided not even to bother setting up the stall. "It was just too bad. We came down really early in the morning, about 7.30, and decided there and then that we were not going to stand."

They are deciding day to day at the moment whether to set up. When they don't, it costs. But they have to offset the loss of a day's trade against possible damage to stock, Justin says. "The snow is so light, it blows everywhere in the wind. The cardboard packaging gets sodden and can be ruined."

The farmer

Farmers in the Vale of York have had it fairly lucky, says Rosie Dunn, who farms at Stockton-on-the-Forest. They've only had two or three inches of snow. Up on the moors, it is different. "One colleague I spoke to was dragging sheep out of five foot drifts up at Rosedale," she says.

For Rosie and her husband, the main job of the day is looking after their livestock - 150 ewes kept outdoors, who will be lambing in a month or so, and 120 beef cattle kept indoors.

The sheep come first - checked morning and night to make sure they are OK. They are getting extra food - sugar beet left over from the last crop - but are pretty tough, says Rosie. "They are equipped for the job of surviving."

For the cattle, it is extra bedding to keep them warm. On the arable side, there is not much that can be done in weather such as this, says Rosie. A bit of maintenance around the farm and then a chance to sit down, catch up on paperwork, and reflect on things.

The volunteer guide

On Monday, Ivan Martin showed a party of five around the historic centre of York. "Three intrepid Australians and two Americans," the 62-year-old says. "They were duly grateful."

Around half of York's 110 volunteer guides work during the winter, with tours leaving daily from Exhibition Square at 10.15. It does get cold, Ivan says. "Especially in the feet if you're standing about for five minutes!"

With the bar walls closed, and with visitors not wanting to spend as long asking questions and taking photos, tours tend to be a bit shorter than the normal two hours when conditions are this extreme.

Ivan still enjoys leading tours and will always turn out, whatever the weather. "I'm one of the old school. If you put your name down for something, you do it."

The Big Issue seller

Matt is standing in Coney Street outside Woolworths as snow flakes drift gently down around him. He's been here on this patch four hours a day for most of the week, he says cheerfully. "It is cold, but not terrible. And at least I get quite a bit of sympathy."

If it gets too bad, he will call it quits for the day. But he can't afford to do that. He travels to York from Leeds every day, where he stays in a hostel. "So I have to cover my fare."

Not surprisingly, he won't be sad to see the back of winter. "I'll be glad when the warmer weather comes."

Call this cold?...

...It is positively Mediterranean compared with last century's mini ice ages in 1947 and 1963.

"It was wicked," said Margaret Firth, 79, who was living in Marygate in 1947. "We didn't have central heating then. All the windows used to be frozen up like Christmas trees."

The cold descended on January 6, 1947, and the thaw did not arrive for two long months.

Coal supplies began to run out, bringing power cuts. Families were reduced to burning twigs, books, potato peelings and, in some cases, pieces of furniture to keep warm.

"The snow came, like now," Mrs Firth said, "but there wasn't the equipment to shift it.

"My uncle was a gritter. He used to go out at two o'clock in the morning, but it didn't clear it the way the salt and grit does now."

Despite the hardship, people just kept going. "You just tried to get as much as you could out of life. We used to go dancing at the Co-op Hall, in what is now George Hudson Street.

"But I would never wish anyone the cold we felt then."

Alf Redpath was a six-year-old Fishergate School pupil, but he vividly remembers the '47 freeze. His family lived in Winterscale Street, York.

"We weren't able to go to school. The snow was halfway up the front door. It was really bad that year. Everyone was helping clear the snow from the paths. In those days there was a community spirit."

He was a grown man and working in an Acomb shop when the 1963 freeze arrived. Then temperatures plunged to minus 20C, the coldest since 1740.

The snow provided Alf with an extra form of income. "Me and a friend, we used to go snow shovelling all over the place and get paid for it," he said.

John Liley, who rose to become York's police commander, was a beat copper in the Dales in 1963.

"It was quite wild and hairy, as you can imagine" he recalled. "You were worried about people in an isolated position, about their welfare.

"Traffic was at a standstill and we had a real supplies problem."

Anne Terry, 71, was a mum with two children aged three and one.

"We lived in Newland Park Drive, and trying to get pram up the slope to the houses was hell," she recalled.

Mrs Terry has never been a fan of the wintry weather. "When I was small we lived in Lowther Street and I went to Park Grove School. I used to wait until we heard the bell go and then run to school, and I was in line before I could get cold and wet."

Martin Lunn, curator of astronomy for York Museums Trust, needs images and memories of the 1963 and 1947 winters for an exhibition. Anyone who can help may contact him at the Yorkshire Museum, Museum Gardens, York, YO1 1FR, or email martin.lunn@ymt.org.uk

If you sent emails to him before, please get back in contact - many were lost in a computer crash.

Chris Titley

Updated: 09:21 Thursday, February 24, 2005