There were always five or six of us in the car as we drove through Michigan's frigid upper peninsula in the depths of winter, astounded by the banks of snow piled high on the side of the road, far taller than our car. We were crammed onto the bench seats of the vehicle, often singing, always laughing, as we passed through tiny villages en route to public schools in towns only slightly larger than the ones we had passed through. (For the younger readers of this blog, there was a time not all t...
