Numbing Storm Grounds Midwest Under Snow, Ice

ST. LOUIS — Two angry storm systems smacked into each other high above the Midwest on Saturday, dumping more than a foot of snow, whipping up ferocious winds and frustrating holiday travelers who found their flights canceled and their cars glazed solid from windshield to tires with ice a quarter-inch thick.

Hundreds of flights out of St. Louis and Chicago were canceled as wind pushed fresh drifts of snow down the runways almost as fast as crews could clear them.

So many passengers were stranded at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport that authorities called a nearby Hilton to requisition cots for the terminals. The hotel, however, had none to spare, having booked every available bed--including some in rooms that had been closed for renovation--by 8 a.m. “We’re completely out,” Manager Alex DelGado said. “We’re swamped.”

The storm, the first real whopper to hit the Midwest this winter, swept across Iowa, Minnesota, Indiana and Ohio as well as Missouri and Illinois. Some towns in northeast Missouri reported up to 18 inches of snow on the ground, and that wasn’t the worst of it; road-clearing crews also had to contend with nose-numbing frost and visibility as low as a quarter of a mile.

Windchill temperatures sank to 19 degrees below zero in Minneapolis, 16 below in Chicago and St. Paul, Minn., and 10 below in St. Louis and Des Moines. By Saturday afternoon, the balmiest city around was Indianapolis, where the snow had changed to freezing rain and the windchill was just 5 below zero.

Authorities blamed the storm for at least eight deaths. The deaths, seven reported Friday and one Saturday, were attributed to traffic accidents, included two in Missouri, two in Nebraska and two in Arkansas, where freezing rain knocked out power to thousands.

Amid all this mayhem, only a select few could find a silver lining: “I would think this would boom business pretty well,” Brian Norce, an aspiring chiropractor, said with a grin as he watched his neighbors in St. Louis struggle to heave frozen blocks of snow off their cars.

The nasty weather should push out of the Midwest today, but it won’t just dissolve. Instead, it will head toward the Atlantic Ocean as New England comes in for its New Year’s dose of ice and snow. “Basically,” said Mike Doll, a meteorologist for WeatherData Inc., “everything will shift east and a little bit north.” That couldn’t happen soon enough for most Midwesterners.

Sure, they’re used to cold weather. And yes, they know they’ll get snow in the winter. It’s a fair trade, they’ll tell you with unconcealed swagger, for doing without earthquakes and smog and the perceived urban evils of, say, Los Angeles.

But when you get right down to it, even some Midwesterners are not used to bona fide blizzards. On average, Chicago records just one day a year with a 24-hour snowfall accumulation of more than 5 inches. Same with St. Louis. “This was that day,” Doll said.

Doll traced the storm to two distinct systems--one sweeping south from Canada, the other pushing east from California--that collided in the upper atmosphere. “The two merged right over the central U.S. and combined forces. All the ingredients were there for a major winter storm. And we’ve got one.”

Indeed, Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley called the storm the worst to hit his city in 30 to 40 years. By late afternoon Saturday, downtown had recorded 17 inches of snow, just 2 inches shy of the last big single-storm total in 1979. And it was still coming.

Making matters worse--much worse--was the wind, which gusted up to 63 mph, taunting Chicago’s shoveling crews with a never-ending job. Though the city sent out 700 pieces of equipment to clear the roads starting at 3 a.m. CST Saturday, Daley warned that “the task is enormous” and said the cleanup could take days. “Many streets are covered over with blowing snow minutes after being cleared,” Daley said, appealing to residents to be patient.

At the Drake Hotel on Lake Michigan, guests seemed to be taking Daley’s plea to heart.

“No one seems very worked up,” said Cindy Chang, the assistant manager. Lake Shore Drive, the main artery outside the hotel, was shut. And guests’ views of Lake Michigan had turned downright eerie: Snow dunes so completely covered the lake that it appeared to be a frozen desert.

Still, Chang said, most folks appeared more resigned than frazzled. “There’s not a lot that can be done. Everyone just seems to be stuck where they are.”

Stuck they were: All flights in and out of Chicago were canceled Saturday afternoon and evening, and no one was quite sure when normal service would resume. With roads treacherous and officials urging people not to drive, those who made it to the airport found themselves trapped, even if they lived nearby.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get home,” groaned Hank Dreyer, the manager of a deli at O’Hare’s international terminal. “I was going to take tomorrow off work, but it looks like I’ll be spending the night in the back room.”

For Chicagoan Elda Castelvecchi, who was in Los Angeles to spend the holidays with her son, the storm meant a few extra days of vacation.

“There is no reason to rush home to pick up a shovel,” said Castelvecchi, whose flight was canceled.

Because of the Chicago flight cancellations, many University of Wisconsin fans, who were in Southern California for the Rose Bowl, could not go home. The United Airlines lobby at Los Angeles International Airport was “a sea of red sweatshirts,” said United spokesman Jim Hurst.

Both United Airlines and American Airlines canceled flights to Chicago from Los Angeles, San Francisco and Oakland airports.

Other cities across the Midwest also reported major disruptions in air service, most notably St. Louis, where TWA scratched more than 400 flights.

Though St. Louis’ snow accumulation of about 8 inches was not as impressive as Chicago’s, it was bad enough for a city unused to blizzards. About 500 state workers were pressed into round-the-clock shifts to clean the streets. The Gateway Arch closed. The St. Louis Symphony canceled its Saturday evening performance for the first time in 16 years.

And software engineer Shelby Smith contemplated sending out her resume: “All weekend, I’ve been thinking of moving to Atlanta,” she said as she struggled to free her ice-encased car in the suburb of Maryland Heights, Mo.

A few parking spots over, Kathy Miles, a registered nurse who had worked 10 minutes to clear just a mitten-sized patch on her windshield, indulged in similar escapist fantasy. Only hers centered on Pasadena. She had just watched the Rose Parade, and one image would not leave her: “They were in short sleeves!” she said, with envy. “It looked pretty nice.”

Times researcher John Beckham in Chicago and staff writer K. Connie Kang in Los Angeles contributed to this report.