Sometime before 2 p.m. Friday, as a powerful blizzard tightened its grip on Buffalo, Stasia Syta set out from her West Side home for the Broadway Market.
The 73-year-old, without telling anyone, had gone out to pick up carp and herring for the traditional Polish Christmas Eve supper known as Wigilia.
She didn't make it to the market.
And she never made it back home.
Sunday night, two family friends found her snow-covered Chevy Cobalt stuck in deep snow on the side of the 33 and called Syta's daughter, Edie, to deliver the news she had dreaded.
"I just don't know why people went out there. I don't know what they were thinking," Edie Syta said in a 75-minute interview. "And I just feel broken. I feel helpless. I feel sad. I feel angry. That's my main feeling: I just want to punch something, you know? I can't eat. And I just need her here, still. It was too soon to go."
Stasia Syta is one of nearly three dozen people known to have died in last weekend's storm, a grim toll likely to rise in the days ahead.
Syta grew up in Poland, where she married and had twins, Edyta and Peter. The family in 1979 or 1980 immigrated to this country, Edie Syta said, where several relatives already lived.
"My mother would always talk about how hard it was in Poland under communism," said Edie Syta, a Buffalo art teacher. "And they thought that they could have a better life here."
The Sytas moved near the Broadway Market on Buffalo's East Side. Stasia Syta cleaned offices in the Liberty Building and at a company that manufactured boxes for retailers.
Following the death of her second husband, Syta moved into an apartment below her son and near her daughter.
An early riser, Stasia Syta occasionally walked to her daughter's home to tie a bag holding yogurt, a serving of fruit cup or a bottle of juice to her driver's side mirror to make sure Edie Syta had nourishment before going off to work.
"She was a beautiful, beautiful person," Edie Syta said.
The Sytas held garage sales and sold Christmas trees, pumpkins and produce. Customers from as far away as Gowanda ordered Stasia Syta's homemade farmer's cheese, potato or onion pierogi.
Stasia Syta poses with Milo, her daughter, Edie's, dog. Stasia Syta, who died last weekend in the Buffalo blizzard, loved Milo and enjoyed making him his own batch of Rosół, the Polish version of chicken noodle soup. "Mama always said, 'Milo is a handsome boy,'" Edie Syta said.
Photo courtesy Edie Syta
This year, Stasia Syta, Peter Syta, Edie Syta and her partner, Greg Weigel, planned to get together on Sunday, instead of Saturday, for a feast of fish, potatoes, rye bread, beet soup, pierogi and kapusta, a Polish dish featuring braised cabbage.
On Dec. 23, Edie Syta was hunkered down at home around 7 p.m. when her brother called.
"He's like, 'Edie, I gotta tell you something.' And I said, 'What?' And he said, 'Mom's in the storm and she's stuck,'" Edie Syta said.
Edie Syta said she composed herself before calling her mother.
"I said, 'Mama, where are you?' And she said she was going to the market for fish. And I said, 'Why would you do that? We don't need fish. Who cares about the fish?' And my mom just said, 'We need it for Wigilia.' And I said, 'OK, Mama.' I said, 'Hold tight. I'm going to call you back,'" Edie Syta recalled.
By this point, her mother had been stuck in the snow since 2 p.m. When she asked why her mother hadn't called sooner, Stasia Syta responded in Polish that she had lost her train of thought.
Stasia Syta wasn't able to articulate where she was. She referred to a park, which Edie Syta thought meant Delaware Park.
She urged her mother to roll down her window to spot a landmark and see if she was near a home that could take her in. Stasia Syta said she couldn't because the window and door were frozen.
Edie Syta spoke to her mother four times, in between calls to family members and Buffalo police.
"The last words that my mom said to me were, 'I need a miracle. I need a miracle from God.' And she said, 'Please pray for me.' And I said, 'Mama, I love you. I will pray for you.' And I said, 'Mama, don't worry, we're coming,'" Edie Syta said.
Soon after, Edie Syta and Weigel tried to get their four-wheel-drive pickup on the road. Peter Syta was on the phone, imploring their mother to hold on a little longer, but they couldn't get through the snow in their driveway.
Now after 9 p.m., Edie Syta called her mother several times but she didn't answer.
"I said, 'Well, maybe she's gotten her butt to a shelter,'" Edie Syta said, "and whenever my mom gets there she's gonna call me."
Edie Syta said she repeatedly called Buffalo police, Erie County's storm phone number, State Police and the New York National Guard, among other agencies.
Some said they weren't in a position to help. She said others never answered. One questioned why her mother didn't heed the blizzard warnings and travel ban.
She said she remains angry and frustrated at the inaction and victim blaming.
Saturday, Edie Syta and Weigel unsuccessfully tried moving the pickup again.
On Sunday, Weigel walked most of the way from their West Side home to Agassiz Circle, near Delaware Park, to search for her. He returned, without luck, four hours later.
Later that day, Edie Syta, Weigel and her brother settled in to the meal they would have shared with Stasia Syta.
"We were just hoping for a Christmas miracle," Edie Syta said.
Instead, at 8:30 p.m., her phone rang. Two friends of Weigel's, Scott Mayer and Brian Hawkins, who knew and loved Stasia Syta, had driven from North Tonawanda to retrace her likeliest route to the market.
They dug through deep drifts, checking each vehicle buried in snow, before finding Syta's red Cobalt along the 33 near Martin Luther King Jr. Park.
Hawkins switched the call to FaceTime and held his phone inside the car to show Stasia Syta's body. Her jacket was unzipped and her phone lay next to her. Edie Syta said her mother died from the cold or carbon monoxide poisoning.
She, her partner and her brother soon began sharing stories about her mother.
She said Stasia Syta was an eclectic dresser fond of vivid colors that drew attention on her neighborhood excursions.
"She just had the most bubbly personality," Edie Syta said. "She had a poor life but she was very happy."
Edie Syta's grief over her mother's death is magnified by the knowledge more bodies will be found as the region digs out.
"So many families are going to be devastated," she said, decrying the lack of preparation for the storm. "This was a debacle and a catastrophe."
The Sytas plan to hold a service for their mother at St. Stanislaus Church before taking some of her ashes to spread in Lublin, Poland, where Stasia Syta had lived.