The day started innocuous and drab. Hungover from a dorm party, I awoke my girlfriend (soon to be wife) and trudged to an 8 am class at Washburn Hall on the quad. The air was chilly, upper 20s with a biting NE wind, which made the hungover walk seem longer than usual. Washburn was home to URIs Meteorology Dept and was buzzing as I entered. I had a Physics class next to the Met room and as I passed I heard the distinct clatter of a Difax machine and stopped to look. As I peered in the Professor exclaimed "this would be a storm we would remember for the rest of our lives". That immediately drew me in. I looked at the now completed Satellite picture and saw a giant swirl of clouds located off the Delmarva. I asked the Professor what time was the storm due and how much. He was excited " should start at noon" and then he said straight face " I think this is a storm that brings feet of snow". Now my head is wide awake and free from a buzz. I start thinking about my elderly parents in Westerly, and make the decision to go home to ride it out with them. I had plans to meet my girl at the student lounge at 11 after my 10 class. I stared out the window the entire 10 am class, watching the clouds lower and the wind start to crank. We met and as I was explaining to her what the professor had said, I noticed thick flurries descending across the sky from my view from the expansive windows of the Student Union. I then made a decision which proved to be a great one. I told her we needed to leave now. She protested but I insisted so we headed out. The ride started out in Kingston a 20 minute ride from Westerly, normally I would have taken the back roads but decided to take state roads and 95 back. Another good decision. As soon as we hit Rt 138 the snow instantly became heavy, dense, and wind whipped. The road quickly became snow covered. As we entered Rt 95 the visibility had dropped to less than an 1/8th of a mile and traffic, although light, was moving very slowly. Driving a tank 1961 Chryler New Yorker I barged passed cars spinning even in the passing lane. As I exited onto Rt 3, which now had taken 45 minutes, the snow was whipping with a velocity I had never encountered on the road. The road had 3 to 5 inches of snow which was manageable but with visibility so low I had a hard time finding the road. I entered Westerly 15 minutes later and all hell had broken loose. Cars were stranded all over. People could not make it up the hills. I plowed through and made it home. We bunkered down and my parents allowed my girl to stay until it was safe to bring her home, a decision that changed my life forever. The storm raged all night. Constant thunder and lightning for hours and hours. Winds so high the house screeched, occasionally you could hear sleet hit, might have been hail. After basically a non sleeping night the morning brought sights I had never seen. My car invisible, drifts up to the roof of my neighbors house, yet the storm continued. I was astounded at the ferocity. As the day progressed the snow would lighten up and then return with full fury. The wind was constant. We started the dig out process. The snow was heavy and blown into wind slabs. Thick and hard to move. I found a level spot on the lee side of our yard and measured 28 to 36 inches of snow. After dig out it was play time. We jumped off of my parents flat roof into a 10 foot drift. The blizzard of 78 was and is the most intense terrifying yet beautiful storm I ever encountered. The next day I drove my girl in my tank through one lane plowed roads back to URI where all classes were canceled and a week long party commenced, jumping out of 2nd story dorms into massive 20 foot drifts, using dining room trays sledding down hills. Truly as my Professor said, some 43 years later, I will never forget the Blizzard of 78 as the greatest winter storm ever in my life. I have a live reminder as well, 9 months later to the day my oldest son was born, a product of 78!