After the Ice Storm
It’s all history now but in the aftermath of Ice Storm 2007, the mountains of debris that wait in huge mountains along the streets and in front of just about every home in the neighborhood and around town are a daily reminder of just how devastating this silent storm really was. I remember clearly waking up in the early hours to the sounds, first of cracking, then the ultimate crashing sounds as so many trees in our neighborhood, including the two huge elm trees in our front yard surrendered to the weight of the freezing rain that turned to ice and wreaked havoc throughout the night. Too nervous to sleep, I bundled up and took a walk around, being careful as I passed beneath tree branches that reached out over the street. Needless to say, if I could have slept with one eye open the rest of the morning, I would have. Still, that probably wouldn’t have helped if a huge branch from the next door neighbor’s sycamore tree had landed on our roof. As luck would have it (if you can call it luck) nothing landed on the house, although our backyard fence took a hard hit. There was not too much left worth looking at after the ice brought down most of both of the front yard elms and left a huge pile of trash along the street and in our front yard.
To add inconvenience to “injury”, a branch that fell across the power line blew a transformer three blocks away leaving our area homes without power instantly and for days that followed. One never fully appreciates the electricity that we often take for granted until suddenly, it’s gone. The temperature inside drops quickly and that our rarely used wall furnace was pressed into service. The mad scramble to find firewood, dry and suitable for burning in the fireplace in the den, reveals that there much left on the wood pile. It’s kinda like being in shock to come home to and be in a house where the temperature, normally a comfortable sixty eight degrees is suddenly much closer to freezing, unless we’re close to the wall furnace or the fireplace is burning. The fishes in my aquarium were probably wondering what the heck happened as the water got colder and colder until I could longer read it on the thermometer because it had dropped so low. As each cold day went by, I was helpless with that situation and surprised that although they were not moving around very much that they were even surviving in what now had to be ice cold water. Unfortunately, after the first four or five days, they all surrendered to the cold and died. We moved the mattress into the den where the wall furnace and fireplace were just so we could be able to have some warmth and be able to sleep. Bedtime came early, not long after the sun went down and there was nothing left to do but sleep.
Outside and within days after the first horrific wave of ice and the resulting damage, the fleets of repair trucks rolled into town from other states, called in to help expedite the repair process and restore power in the area. Hundreds of thousands were in darkness. It was a site for sore eyes to see so much help arrive. Unfortunately, organization was sadly lacking and more could have been accomplished in less time otherwise. At least, I must say that at times my frustration and anger about what followed threatened to get the best of me. These huge trucks, often ten or more in convoys, showing little regard for safety, routinely pulled out into and blocked the flow of traffic, ran red lights, and exceeded the speed limit to a dangerous degree during much of the time they were here. Not only that but too often I would observe parking lot staging areas around town packed with these trucks, for who knows how long, their occupants either standing around or sitting inside and doing nothing. Can I blame them? Maybe not and maybe responsibility goes back to those who failed to adequately organize and dispatch these people to the neighborhoods in darkness. It was frustrating indeed to see them parked right next to the blown transformer and downed power line in our “neck of the woods” and then drive by later to find them gone and the problem not taken care of. Too much staging, too much sitting and not enough work going on from my point of view.
Nine days…….nine long, cold days AND nights before the power at our home was finally restored. During that time, daylight found us out in our yard, just like most of the neighbors, cutting, stacking, piling debris and trying to restore some sense of order. Today, several weeks removed from Ice Storm 2007, most of the mess has been picked up by the city and our supply of firewood will be sufficient for the winters that lie ahead. The aquarium has been cleaned and a new community of fish have replaced the others who perished and they seem to be enjoying all the room that comes with a 55-gallon home.
All is well, but we will always remember those days of darkness when the ice moved in and the power went out. Someone once said, “What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.” and I suppose there’s some truth in that. The power is back on and we’re still here.