Hard to believe 40 years have gone by since the Beanpot of '78.

That's what I prefer to call the Blizzard of '78 because it was the occasion of my first "big" sports assignment for The Sun as a 20-year-old co-op student from Northeastern University.

I drove into Boston on Monday, Feb. 6, as the snow began to fall and I didn't think much of it. Hey, I was young. BU was playing BC! I had a press pass and a company car!

Unlike today, when a couple of inches of white powder trumpets the arrival of STORM WATCH! on local TV stations, there was no 24-7 media back then. Yeah, it was going to snow a little bit. So what?

So what? So they closed down the state while Harvard and Northeastern players skated their wings.

I spent Monday night sprawled out on wooden seats at the old Boston Garden, Tuesday and Wednesday night at a shelter in the old Commonwealth Armory near BU, and Thursday night on the couch of an old girlfriend in Medford.

Ended up getting back to Lowell by way of a North Station evacuation train on that Friday afternoon.

It was all walking through huge snow drifts and deserted streets, too. There was no working subway, no cabs, no Uber. No ATM's and no cell phones, of course.

For meals we had shelter shlop, bacon and eggs at Hayes & Bickfords, and knockwurst and cole slaw at McKeough's Pub, a dive in the old Combat Zone. Luckily the drinking age was 18 back then. The packies were almost all open.


One thing I remember distinctly: A bunch of drunks were kicking around a beer can on the first floor of the Garden in an impromptu "hockey game" when Harry Sinden walked by.

This was around 1:30 a.m., according to a story I wrote later. For hours afterward the drunks would bellow: "Haaaa-rry!! Haaaa-rry!" for no other reason other than that they were drunk.