The Great Ice Storm of 2004 made our dependence on electricity a very real and tangible thing. I woke the morning after, unaware anything unusual had happened. Growing up in Ohio makes it difficult for even the weather to surprise a person. One virtually worn-out quote bandied about is "If you don't like the weather, stick around; it'll be different in five minutes." This storm succeeded where others had failed.
The sound of rifle-shots followed with an unnatural quiet gradually seeped into my sleepy brain as I lay in bed. I told Paul the power was off and either someone is shooting at us or branches are breaking off the trees. He told me I was crazy and I got up to investigate.
What greeted me was almost indescribable in its eerie beauty. Every branch, twig, surface, weed, everything exposed to the elements, was covered in glass. Or at least it looked like glass. Without traffic moving everything was silent, except for the occasional rifle-sound as branches and limbs snapped under the weight of the ice entombing them in a thick and heavy casing. When a slight breeze blew in, the scratching, cracking sound made me, for some reason as yet unclear, think of witches and brooms and the baking of small children named Hansel and Gretel.
What followed were weeks of power outages, broken trees, and general disruption to our lives. Many less fortunate people were without heat and simply left their homes to stay with family, friends, or in a hotel. After electricity was restored some of them returned to find busted water pipes and general mayhem.
I am blessed with a husband who can do pretty much anything. Were we shipwrecked on an island, we would soon be living in a tree house to rival the Robinson's. In short order he had hooked up a generator, stocked the living room with wood for the fireplace, and picked up our daughter and our three-week-old grandbaby from their unheated home. Soon a sister and her children joined us and we spent the next week enjoying food, games, and a holiday at home.
I left once or twice to go to work; I was a nurse at the local hospital which was also running on generators. Doctors and nurses came in before their shifts to take showers because they too, were without power at home. The atmosphere everywhere was filled with a spirit of community; people helped each other and slowed from the frantic pace of normal life. I've heard in crisis situations humans often rise to a higher standard than the mediocrity they frequently achieve in their day-to-day monotonous routines and I saw it happen.
The past few days the weather reports have been filled with predictions of impending disaster as another ice storm heads across a twenty-four hundred mile swath of the country. The weather girls and boys tried without success to look distressed as they prognosticated about the likelihood of dire consequences sure to follow in the wake of the upcoming rain, sleet, snow, wind, and freezing temperatures. Most people, wisely, prepared and are at this very moment sitting snug in their homes.
The roadways are at a "level two" on the hazard scale. The closings have been announced. Everything from doctors' offices, to support groups, to restaurants and flower shops are shut down. I suppose people better be advised not to cut themselves or give birth or have a mental breakdown until the storm is over.
It's already been arranged that my daughter and her family will come to stay if the lights go out. Otherwise, I'll have to keep plugging away in the office getting tax paperwork done, paying bills, and catching up on computer tasks.
I wonder if I'm the only person that will be disappointed if the electricity stays on.
