The alarm goes off at midnight because the radar said it should, and by one there are headlights strung down Old 27, most of them belonging to people with a blade on the front. Resolute Services is among them, clearing drives and lots around Gaylord while the storm is still working, then coming back at daylight for whatever fell after. Salt goes down where the ice sets up — at the bottom of the grades, across the walks, in the shaded corner by the door. Almost nobody sees the work itself; they see an open drive at six-thirty and get on with the day. That is the entire idea, and it holds from the first squall to the last one in March.