'Twas the night before a blizzard, when all through the shop
not a piece of equipment was stirring, not even a mop.
The truck keys were hung in the garage with care
in hopes that a foot of snow soon would be there.
The operators were at home all snug in their beds,
while visions of overtime danced in their heads.
With Christenson checking radar, and Holzknecht on the road,
I knew we were in for quite a load.
When out on the highway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The wind was a-howling, here came the snow
and to make it worse, it was 5 degrees below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should arrive,
but a fleet of trucks and operators to drive.
They jumped into action, like a hunter with a bounty,
I knew in a moment it must Anoka County.
More rapid than eagles the drivers they came,
and Faulhaber cell phoned, and called them by name:
Now, Plemon! Now, Stark!
Now, Tiede and Anderson, G.!
On, Kiefer! On Lofgren!
On, Malecek and Anderson, T.!
Start up those trucks!
Do not stall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!
As the mechanics prepared the fleet with all their know-how,
pumped in the diesel, mounted the plow.
So out the highways the 49er’s they flew,
with the truck full of salt, and a brine tank too.
And then, in a squawk, I heard on the 2-way,
“It looks like a tough one, let’s get in the fray.”
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
down the highway plow trucks came with a bound.
They were all orange, metal and steel,
and the plow blades scraped the road with such a squeal.
A dozen strobe lights lit up the night,
oh how they twinkled! What a sight!
The blue smoke from the exhaust did blow
and the salt in the box was as white as the snow.
The butt of a cigarette a driver had tight in his teeth
and the smoke it encircled his head just like a wreath.
He had a serious face and a lot of guts;
poured a mug full of coffee and had a donut (with nuts).
He was determined and fearless, fully trained I suspect,
and I nodded when I saw him, to pay my respect.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
The 49ers spoke not a word, but went straight to their work;
checked all the hoses, tightened clamps with a jerk.
And driving their trucks off into the night
I knew all would be OK, even given the plight.
Commuters have no worry, there is nothing to fret.
Anoka County has the best drivers I’m willing to bet!
And I heard them exclaim, as they drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"