Mickey Rooney

C-H-O-M-C-A-T-H, Colgate, for James I go bringing you the Colgate-shaped-shaped- living in the small town of Deer Park, Wisconsin close to Milwaukee.

On February 11th of that year, Albert Winger was attending a high school basketball game near Milwaukee, and after that game was over, he, along with his schoolmates, piled into a bus that was to take them home. But the night was very, very cold.

The snow was piled high, and more snow was being driven by the wind as the bus tried to take the students home. Two miles from Albert Winger's home, the bus came to a stop. The snow was too deep. The bus driver tried to make it, but he could go no further.

I'm sorry, Albert. I don't think we can go any further. That's all right, sir. I can walk home from here. It's only two miles. You'll just open the door and let me up. I'll make it all right.

Okay, Albert. Good luck. Take the chow. I'm sorry young Albert Wingert got out of the bus to try and walk through those snow drifts. The remaining two miles to his home. The wind cut through the night. The snow was deep.

Albert looked for familiar landmarks as he plotted on. He lost his footing several times in the deep snow, but each time he managed to get back onto his feet was getting colder now. The temperature had dropped, dropped to twenty degrees below zero.

The icy blast cut right through Albert. He was shaking and shivering. Suddenly Albert was taken sick, deathly sick. He wanted to lie down in the snow. He did lie down for a while, even went to sleep for a few minutes.