The Phantom Plowman

Every time it snows at night, I go out in the morning to get the newspaper and find my car plowed out. Today was no exception. After what was spring-like weather, there was a big snowstorm last night, dropping about six inches. I had to kick the back door open for the dogs because there was a huge drift along the house side of the deck. Nevertheless, the area behind my car had been cleaned out, as has become usual.

This is Eastport, of course, and good deeds are not so unusual. Still, I wonder who my benefactor might be. Possibly it is the man down the street who once gallantly hooked my car to his truck with a chain and pulled it out of a huge mound of plowed snow at the entrance to my driveway. I had tried to blast my way through it when I came home from Sydney's one Wednesday after an afternoon blizzard. I realized too late that the snow was much too deep, even for front-wheel drive. Once the car was out, he plowed the driveway and drove off like the Lone Ranger, not waiting for thanks.

Amother possibility is the young man who rode with me in a WHCA vehicle early in the winter. He said he loved to shovel people out anonomously. He said it made him feel good to go to needy households under cover of darkness and clear the snow, leaving before anyone could discover him.

It may be neither of these, but some unknown knight in shining armor who believes that good works are their own reward. I would certainly like to be able to speak my gratitude, but unless I somehow catch this person in the act I guess I won't be able to.