On Boxing Day 1962 the snow began to fall. It did not stop for ten weeks.
In London, milkmen made deliveries on skis. On Dartmoor 2,000 ponies were buried in the snow, and starving foxes ate sheep alive. And, yet, underneath the frozen surface, new life was beginning to stir. A new breed of satirists threatened the complacent decadence of the British establishment. A game-changing band from Liverpool topped the charts, becoming the ultimate symbol of an exuberant youthquake. When the thaw came, ten weeks of extraordinary weather had acted as a catalyst between two distinct eras.