The ice storm is to end all ice storms. We picked our papers up that cold icy wet February day... the roads were glazed with mirror ice and the paper delivery was in peril. Our usually happy, wealthy customers in this small section of Pawtucket we're somewhat miffed... to say the least. It's the story fortitude or lack thereof... the story of willful abandonment by the Ten Mile River. It's a poem of wickedly cold conditions. Redemption is on an epic scale. Be it cold rain or snow, the papers must go through, as the old saying goes.