Reader Doug Purl, now living in Missoula, Mont., shares this memory of a cold snap that happened in Stockton when he was a boy:
Sometime in the early mid-forties a shockingly cold burst of air
descended upon Stockton. I was a lad aged in the single digits
living two blocks from Yosemite Lake on South Tuxedo and ventured
over to the lake, as we did every day of our lives, this time to
inspect the uncommon shield of ice that had formed at the terminus of
Smith Canal (and the outlet for the storm drains for the north side of
the town). Of course to a young boy ogling the lake in effect meant
collecting everything along the bank that could be gathered up and
thrown out onto the ice sheet.
On the day following the Record had a headline proclaiming that a low
temperature record had been established for Stockton — 17 degrees.
It’s fortunate that the cold arrived during the dormant season of the
spectacular fruits and vegetables we were blessed with in the Central