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!”)
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