Good morning. 🕊️🕊️🕊️
20 October 2025
Cold Thresholds and Army Paperwork
Wow. I just glanced at the temperature on my taskbar—47º outside. That’s the coldest morning of the fall so far this year. I know, I know… folks up in Minnesota are probably thinking, “Big whoop. That’s shirt-sleeve weather.”
I lived in Minnesota for a while during my Army days. I’d just been reassigned from Germany and thought I understood cold. Minnesota politely—and thoroughly—redefined that understanding. I drove up from Tennessee after flying in from Wyoming. That month was a blur of relocations, a sovereign zigzag across the country. But that’s a story for another scroll.
A few days after arriving in Minnesota, I had to fly to Fort Sheridan in Chicago to sign in. I was Regular Army, assigned to a Reserve battalion. On arrival, I rented a car, drove to a certain building on post, walked in, probably handed over my orders, signed a book, turned around, got back in the rental, and drove straight back to Minnesota. Crazy, right?
When I returned to Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport, the temperature had dropped. On advice, I’d parked my car over at neighboring Fort Snelling and taken a taxi to the airport. It was late at night. The moment I stepped outside, the cold hit me like a wall—literally took my breath away. I don’t recall the exact temperature, only that it was very cold. 🥶
I jumped into the first taxi I saw and headed for Fort Snelling. The parking lot was vast and empty, save for my car sitting alone in the middle, blanketed in snow. I asked the driver to wait until I got it started. He did. And just like that—I had arrived.
“Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.” — Mark Twain
“One thing about cold weather: it brings out the statistician in everyone.” — Paul Theroux'
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