This was about 1966. I remember we lived in a two-bedroom house in the suburbs in Flint, Michigan. It was the first house that my parents had purchased and it was across the street from a house that they had previously rented. My brother was probably a year old or a little older, making me four. We spent all of our time indoors during the winter. That year we had a huge snow storm and mom probably needed a break so dad and the two boys went outside in the snow. Dad shoveled the driveway and sidewalk while we played. The snow was really wet and stuck nice.
    That two-story house across the street in the picture below was the one we had rented. Mom took the picture from the front porch of our new home. My brother is in the blue/grey suit on the left and I'm on the right. Dad, in his red coat is shoveling snow. You can see a bunch of kids across the street.

    After dad finished shoveling he talked me into helping him build a snowman in the back yard. Well, I had no clue how to build one of those. He showed me how to get a log of snow rolling and we managed to push this round thing until it built up a ton of snow. Then we tilted it over and it lay flat on the ground. That piece was huge. Up to my neck. As you can see from this picture:

Now it was time to build the second layer. What did we do? We rolled this monster log of snow almost as big as the first. Dad was clever enough to start out a ways and roll it toward the base, so he didn’t have to carry it over there. By the time we got it to the base, it was huge. Then he tried to lift it. Looking back and seeing those pictures, I think he was somewhat joking. Of course, mom was outside taking pictures and probably watching my little brother.

My dad had this way of standing back and staring at a problem. Oh the gears were turning in his head and he was so focused on the problem that he would stand silent for some time. This was a habit that would drive everyone nuts. My mom always tried to get him to talk it out.
    “Hey, what’s going through your head? Would you like to share some of those ideas?” She would say.
    Anyway, he pushed the second layer flat next to the first layer, then he grabbed the snow shovel and used it to cut the piece into segments. Which I, with my infinite 4-year-old wisdom pointed out that it looked like pieces of a pie. Then he lifted each chunk and positioned it on the base layer. When he got the pieces on the base, he pushed them tight and rubbed the snow to cover the slices. I as fascinated by that feat of engineering. I didn’t realize that snow was such a malleable medium.
    Of course the head of the snowman was next. Dad was smart enough to only roll a small head that he could hoist without cutting up first. That saved him some time.
    I found a picture of the completed item. Apparently dad got some charcoal briquets and decorated the thing. This is my dad, me (with the shovel) and my little brother.