Chris Foran

Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

This week's unwelcome Arctic blast is just another reminder that January likes to give Milwaukee the coldest of shoulders.

Three years ago, we had a brutally cold January, part of a Milwaukee winter that had 28 subzero days. The coldest day that winter was on Jan. 7, 2014, when the temperature plunged to 14 below.

That wasn't even close to the record.

Like January 2014's big chill, January 1982 was numbing. On Jan. 10, the mercury sank to 25 below, tying the record for the city's coldest-ever temperature. Before and after that dubious achievement, Milwaukee got hit with a ton of snow, and because the city did not yet have alternate-side-of-the-street parking restrictions in place, some neighborhoods were impassable, with plows unable to dig between parked cars on both sides of the street.

While city officials began sorting out their options on that front, another front — another wave of bitter cold, riding an Arctic high — was heading our way.

Milwaukee mobilized — at least as far as the food store.

"Shoppers jammed Milwaukee-area grocery stores Friday, standing in checkout lines for up to 65 minutes to replenish their pantries in preparation for another bitterly cold weekend," Milwaukee Sentinel reporter Jim Bednarek wrote in a front-page story published Jan. 16, 1982.

"They're panic-buying," William Koberstein, assistant manager at the Kohl's Food Store at 5656 N. Port Washington Road, Glendale, told Bednarek. The store manager said shoppers were trying to avoid "what happened earlier this month, when heavy snow interrupted deliveries by food suppliers and there were shortages of milk, eggs, bread and other items."

But, Koberstein added, soda, chips and dip also were high on shoppers' lists: "They know they'll be stuck indoors all weekend with only one thing to do — eat."

The Red Owl Store at 4335 W. Bradley Road in Brown Deer reported that an afternoon delivery of 200 loaves of bread sold out in an hour. Another Red Owl grocery store in Waukesha had 65-minute waits at the checkout, while other shoppers reported trouble finding spots in store lots to park.

The weather hysteria, it turned out, was well-founded. In the early-morning hours of Sunday, Jan. 17, 1984, Milwaukee's official temperature was 26 below, beating the 107-year-old record that had been tied the week before.

Milwaukee wasn't shivering alone; most of the country was in a deep freeze that weekend. In Wisconsin, the lowest reported temperature was for Butternut in northern Wisconsin; according to The Milwaukee Journal story published Jan. 18, 1982, the Ashland County community hit 54 below.

As temperatures began to rebound in Milwaukee, the city turned to the task of clearing the streets.

More specifically, clearing the cars from the streets.

Before the weekend's record-breaking chill, police began tagging snowed-in cars with a notice saying that, if the vehicles weren't moved in 72 hours, they would be towed. The Journal reported on Jan. 21, 1982, that 1,584 cars had been ticketed.

At midnight on Jan. 18, The Journal reported, the tow trucks hit the road. By Jan. 21, only 102 cars were towed to the city lot on Canal St., but more would follow.

Complicating matters were the 2,800 temporary one-side-of-the-street-only parking signs posted on some city streets; The Journal's Ron Elving reported in a Jan. 25 story that "many of the signs, placed temporarily in snowbanks, apparently had fallen down or been removed by juveniles."

After 1982's street-parking debacle, the city put in several more permanent winter-parking guidelines, including in 1983 imposing in some neighborhoods one-side-of-the-street parking from Dec. 1 through March 1.

Parking rules didn't keep the cold away, of course. Although Milwaukee tied that record low with another 26-below reading on Feb. 4, 1996, it hasn't been below 20 below since, according to data posted by the Wisconsin State Climatology Office.

ABOUT THIS FEATURE

Each Wednesday, Our Back Pages dips into the Journal Sentinel archives, sharing photos and stories from the past that connect, reflect and sometimes contradict the Milwaukee we know today.

Special thanks and kudos go to senior multimedia designer Bill Schulz for finding many of the gems in the Journal Sentinel photo archives.