As a kid growing up in southeastern Pennsylvania, snow days home from school were as exciting as Christmas morning. 

I remember staying up late the night before, when the weather man said the first snow was supposed to start, turning on the back porch light, sliding the glass door open, and watching in awe how a hush fell over the blanket of snow slowly covering the ground. It’s like the flakes were whispering from the night sky that glowed above. It really was such a peaceful, serene scene, and the next day, was magical, with white fluff at every turn.

Flash-forward to my twenties living in southeastern Pennsylvania, and the magic drifted away with the Nor’easters that would constantly roll into town and stick around for weeks and spit out gray slush that would just refreeze and add another layer of crusty ice. Snow days were replaced with workdays, where I had to grin and bear it, scrape off the car with the defrost on high inside, and make a careful commute to the office. 

And that’s exactly why I migrated to Myrtle Beach in 2003 (well, one reason), closer to the coastline, sunnier skies, and much shorter winters. But when “The Great Winter Storm of 2025” made a surprise appearance here in mid-January and didn’t melt by noon the same day as past snow events have, my childhood nostalgia returned when I experienced snow through the eyes of my three Southern sons who rarely see it—and my youngest, who never did (or was too young to remember the dusting we received when he was a toddler). 

According to the National Weather Service, Myrtle Beach officially recorded 5 inches, which is the most snowfall here since December 1989 and tied for the fifth snowiest storm on record since 1940.

So, in tribute to this issue’s Photo Contest—and to some photographers who have also submitted their snow pics—I’m sharing a handful of my very amateur stills from videos taken during my family’s snow days that I snapped in between snowball fights, snowman building, and boogie board sledding. We had a blast, Southern style, while my northern roots kicked in to teach the boys how to make a snow angel, how to tuck your pant legs into your boots so the snow doesn’t make its way down to your feet, and how to pack a mean snowball.

It was nice to travel back in time for a bit, when I was spellbound by snow, and to share that with my sons. But now I’m ready for summertime to create new memories with the boys on the beach and the water—something I never had in my backyard in southeastern Pennsylvania.