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A Celebration of Slush
BY JOHN L. SMITH * ILLUSTRATION BY JOSHUA SANDSTROM
As longtime desert people, my family has never been much good with snow. Oh, we know our way around a snowman, and a few of us have even returned from skiing without suffering substantial bodily harm, but overall we're far more comfortable in diamondback-broiling heat than even a few inches of the white stuff.
As a boy growing up in the factory town of Henderson, Nevada, I'll never forget my first Christmas snow. The year had trudged deep into December, and my head buzzed with countless holiday scenarios, most of which ended with me being showered with gifts too numerous to mention. Although I'd gladly settle for the granting of the least of my yuletide wishes, an actual white Christmas wasn't even on the radar screen. Not in all Henderson's humble history had snow fallen so early in the season.
When I awoke that morning, my first thought was that the nearby chemical plant had belched something cold and toxic. Noxious fogs were not uncommon in those days, but this wasn't the usual factory overflow.
It was then I realized the miracle of snow in the desert. ...
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The March/April 2003 Issue is out. Find it at Las Vegas bookstores today.
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