Alhambra is in the heart of sunny Southern California. We are used to clear days and blue skies. They are on display during the annual Rose Parade when much of the rest of the country is enduring the heart of winter. We get the occasional rain shower but we keep the snow in the mountains where it belongs. Yet, every once in a while, the weather takes a turn to the unexpected.
On January 10, 1949, a freak weather pattern brought a cold front down from Canada and Alaska to Southern California. As it moved in, it met with a low-pressure system moving east from the Pacific Ocean. We know this condition today as “the Pineapple Express” or the less expressive, “Atmospheric River.” The result of this combination was three nights of snow throughout the Los Angeles Basin, into the San Fernando Valley and eastward to the Inland Empire.
It had not snowed in Alhambra since 1923, so this was, and still is, rare. The temperature dipped to 25 degrees Fahrenheit at night. Snow fell on our iconic palm trees, giving them a surreal appearance. Some schools closed, but at Alhambra High School students rushed to see the snow between classes. Traffic was slowed as the cold winds spread treacherous ice on highways and many smaller streets (the 10 Freeway was not built until 1952). One Alhambra hardware store displayed a sign that read, “Snow Plows for Rent — Hurry!”
I was three years old and seeing this snow was one of my very first memories. My parents, from the Midwest, knew all about snow. But this was my first experience with it. My mother bundled me up and watched as I walked out into this new landscape. My father showed me how to make snowballs and what to do with them. We even tried to build a snowman. That did not work so well, but it was fun.
Meanwhile, another Alhambra resident and World War II veteran, Larry Stevens, fretted about the 3-4 inches of snow, not only on the ground but on his brand new 1948 Chevrolet. He was glad when it melted.
Dulcy Jenkens, the former editor of Around Alhambra, had not yet been born. She recalls that her father Warner Jenkins, the dean of San Gabriel Valley newspapermen, told her that during those three days it was very cold and unexpected but wonderful to see.
Elsewhere, a very young Joe Genovese, like me was bundled up by his parents. He remembered only that the snow was “sticky,” a condition sometimes known as “wet snow” when the weather rises a little above freezing. Everyone who lived through that experience has a story about it.
Alhambra’s newspaper at the time, the Post Advocate, conducted an informal poll about what people thought about the snow. Perhaps predictably, there were people who liked the cold white stuff and those who didn’t. We will probably never be asked that question again. In our experience today with the climate change we have been experiencing, it is unlikely that snow will be in Alhambra’s future.
