When I called my mother-in-law from the Logan Airport in Boston to tell her our flight home had been delayed, she said fine, but where do we keep the candles and matches and flashlights? While my husband, son, and I had been enjoying our last day together of a weekend trip, my mother-in-law and daughters were back in Cincinnati, experiencing the hurricane-force winds resulting from Hurricane Ike.
Yes, hurricane-force winds. In Ohio.
It seems that Ohio experiences winds of this magnitude approximately every 105 years, and we were due.
Fortunately, our plane was delayed by only three or four hours. Other flights were delayed longer or canceled altogether as departures from and arrivals to the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky Airport were severely curtailed in the aftermath of the wind storm. My son initially seemed impatient with the delay. Strangely enough, I wasn't. Although we were eager to get back home at that point, we were able to enjoy the quiet hours in our near-empty terminal by talking, perusing, and reading.
Lost World
The drive home from the airport was somewhat other-worldly. Nearly all the lights were out in the city. Except for a few sparse pockets of highway lights, and the lights of the other vehicles around me, the drive was simply dark. When I exited near my home, where I have lived for ten years, I actually became disoriented and felt sure I had taken a wrong turn. I could see only what was in front of me. Without the traffic lights, street lights, and shop lights illuminating familiar landmarks and road signs, it was easy to second-guess my path and believe that I was actually in unfamiliar territory.
It was near midnight before we arrived home. The girls had long since gone to sleep. Armed with a flashlight, my son was headed there, too. After saying goodbye to my mother-in-law (she was eager to return home to her husband, despite the late hour) and closing up the house, I rather enjoyed falling asleep to the quiet, sweet-smelling breeze through my open window. Ordinarily, we'd still have the air conditioning running and the windows closed, due to allergies that my husband and son suffer. I enjoyed the reprieve from "artificial" air.
By Monday, it was clear that the power outage was here to stay. Neighbors shared updates gleaned from car radios or from their brief trips out of the neighborhood or from friends and relatives who had phoned with news. Approximately one million households and businesses were without power. Since many Duke Energy employees had been dispatched to help with hurricane recovery efforts in Texas, only about half of their employees were available to help out here at home. Our own power recovery would logically focus on infrastructure priorities first, then move to residential areas in the outskirts, where we live.
Nature's Pruning
As I surveyed our property Monday morning, I realized that, although the yard was a mess of leaves and sticks, we had weathered the storm very well. We had lost many large branches from our trees, and hundreds of small clumps of leafy twigs littered our yard, but the trees themselves were intact. Our roof, siding, and windows sustained no damage. We were very fortunate that the damage that had occurred to many other homes and businesses in the city had passed us by. The kids and I set about collecting and piling the branches (except for a few large ones that were too heavy to move from their resting places on our driveway). I raked the small clumps of twigs and branches, filling nine trash bags full. I figured I'd save the large branches for my husband. What guy doesn't like using a chain saw?
Despite chatting with the neighbors more than I usually do, I felt a bit disconnected from the world at large. In this age of electronic communication and instant information, I just felt a bit lost. I may be an introvert, but I'm not a hermit. Finding a good excuse to venture out in the world -- we needed batteries, gasoline, dog food, and ice -- the kids and I piled into the car for our big trip out.Depletion and Rationing
I guess I'd expected that the gas stations and grocery store near us would be open by now. After all, it had been about 24 hours since the power outage began. Usually the businesses are restored first, so I figured it would be no problem to find the items we needed. Our drive in the daylight illuminated the extent of the storm and the outage. Trees were down -- some of them resting on power lines. Power poles were knocked over like dominoes. Shingles were ripped from rooftops. Exposed Tyvek revealed where siding had been torn from the sides of building and homes. Bright blue tarps covered holes left behind. Reconstruction would be extensive.
Most businesses were still closed. The electricians who had been dispatched to Texas had not returned home yet, and there was only so much that the remaining crew of 400 could accomplish in one day's time. Most areas of town that were dark last night were still without power today. Except for another suburb north of town, I'd heard! So we headed there on my 1/8 tank of gas.
We weren't the first to think of heading there.
The few gas stations that were open had lines wrapping around the building and spilling over onto the street. But at least they had gas. While listening to the precious radio broadcast in the car, I learned that stations that had weathered the storm in other parts of town had been depleted of their stores of gasoline. As we waited our turn, we passed the time rather pleasantly, while noting the few clueless souls who flaunted their time at the pump by reorganizing the contents of their trunk long after their tanks were full.
We had successfully found three of the four items we needed, and were feeling pretty good about our acquisitions. Ice, however, was a different matter. Every store we entered, every gas station we approached, was depleted of ice. Some proprietors were even so kind as to post large signs outside their stores indicating that they were out of this precious commodity. As the hours ticked by, we all knew that our refrigerated items were a loss. But we held out hope of salvaging the frozen goods. Or at least filling a cooler so we could stock it with fresh milk. (Or beer.)
We returned home iceless but energized by our excursion. As dusk neared, we filled our flashlights with new batteries, set out sturdy candles in strategic locations throughout the house, and cleared the floors of any items we might trip over later in the dark. Then we set out to have dinner at my parents' house, as they had the luxury of their electricity having been restored the previous night.
Used to It
By 9:00 a.m. Tuesday morning, I just knew our power would not be restored that day. According to the broadcast from the battery-powered radio I borrowed from Dad, nearly 600,000 households were still without power in the tri-state area. Schools were closed for the second day in a row. Numerous businesses were closed as well. Entire sections of the city were without power. Ice was rationed.
We were adjusting to our slower pace. The kids spent more time outdoors, playing with their friends. I played games with them, an activity I (unfortunately) don't do often anymore. We worked together to clean up our property. There was no arguing over loud music, TV shows, computer time. We still had plenty of food to eat from the pantry, and a gas stove on which to prepare simple meals. We still had hot water for showers and dish washing, since our water tank is heated by gas. We missed our cold meats and dairy items, but felt fortunate that we still had a variety of dry goods from which to choose. We didn't have to go to the health club or my parents' home for showers. We read books by daylight. We did all our work in the day and relaxed by candlelight and flashlight in the evenings. We enjoyed the sounds of nature through our open windows (well, that and the sound of generators...). We kept the house rather tidy because we had more time to spend cleaning up after ourselves than being distracted by e-mails, video games, and web surfing. The kids played the piano spontaneously -- for enjoyment! -- instead of grudgingly only to practice when told to. The weather was glorious -- 50's at night, low 7o's in the day, sunny -- and we really couldn't have asked for a better week to be without air conditioning or central heat.
We really did not suffer. Not like my friend who is battling cancer -- again. Or like my friend and a relative who are unsure whether they'll still have a job by December. Or like the one who is going through a heart-wrenching separation. Or the one whose child ran away from home, leaving parents with too many questions and too-suffering hearts. Or the many in Galveston, Texas, who not only are "inconvenienced" by a power outage, but who are dealing with cleaning up the flood waters and debris left behind in the wake of Ike's massive strength. Or the ones who don't have a home left at all.
Third Day
Duke Energy announced that 85% of their customers should have power restored by the end of the day Wednesday. Since we live in the outskirts and have few businesses near us, I felt sure we'd be in the 15% who would still be without power. Although I hoped for a speedier recovery, I understood that some of us had to be in that 15% without power, and if it included us, then so be it. Eventually, we'd all have power again.
So the girls went to school, despite the fact that power had not returned to it. They attend a Montessori school, and so it was in keeping with their philosophy to have "outdoor education" under these circumstances instead of typical classwork. My son's school had reopened in general, but not his particular building. He'll be home the entire week. He and I enjoyed our morning as we moved a pile of firewood from where it was dumped on our driveway just before we left for Boston, to neat stacks by the back door. We rewarded ourselves with lunch at Panera, which gave us the opportunity to see the world again, as well as to charge my cell phone in the car.
Driving home from our errands, I spotted Duke Energy crews attending to the power lines cradling some large trees near our home. Shocked, I wondered if this meant that our power might be turned on today after all! I tried not to get my hopes up, but still wondered...
At 2:10 p.m., I heard a click from the other room. I briefly thought that could be the power coming on, but, afraid of getting my hopes us, told myself it was probably just a noise I wasn't used to hearing through the open windows.
About five minutes later, when I walked into the kitchen, I was elated to see the lights on and the clock on the oven blinking. So the click had been the electricity coming on, after all!
Within 15 minutes, I'd run the disposal, started a load of laundry, vacuumed the family room, and booted up my computer, all the while thinking of the people who would not be able to clean, cook, and communicate with just the click of a button. It's so easy to take electricity for granted, but right now, I am attentive to each and every click that gives me instant power.
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