SHOOSMITH

About SHOOSMITH

Some winters Chester barely sees a flake, and then a night arrives when the wind pushes in off the tidal water at Bermuda Hundred and every surface glazes over by ten o'clock. SHOOSMITH works nights like that — blades down, lots pushed corner to corner, salt laid at the entrances long before the first headlights swing in. Out toward Enon the ground runs flat and dark and it goes white in a hurry, so the whole job is staying ahead of the storm instead of digging out behind it. The result is meant to go unnoticed: pavement simply black and wet in the morning, walks scraped to bare concrete, nobody standing at a car door working out where to put a foot. That is snow work in a place where snow is an interruption, and it lets Chester carry on.