A nor'easter tends to find Gloucester in the middle of the night, and by then the hill streets above the harbor are already a problem — steep, narrow, drifted deep at every corner. Young Services is out in it, plowing driveways and lots while the storm is still deciding when to quit. There is a plain, real pride in the finished thing: pavement scraped clean, a path opened to the door, the first commuter's headlights swinging out onto the road at six. Wind coming off the water can undo an hour's work in ten minutes, so they come back and do it again. Gloucester and the towns beside it, for as long as the storm lasts.