Throughout much of the day, the scene looked like this outside my office building at Rockefeller Center, as workers pushed back constantly against the elements, keeping at bay the mounds of snow that threatened to overwhelm us.
It reminded me of the debt of gratitude that so many of us owe to the unsung people—not just them, but bus drivers, subway conductors, those who shovel walks and driveways for those who can’t, and others—who have gone about, in a harsh, even threatening environment, their often thankless work this winter, enabling us to maintain at least minimal functionality and sanity.
This morning, for instance, there was the bus driver, hopelessly stuck on a hill for several minutes, with his wheels spinning, who finally got us up and moving. (I overheard another driver say, in similar conditions, just a few days before: “This winter’s the last straw. I have enough weeks for vacation. Time to retire to Florida!”)