I didn't think much of it when the power went out. It happens often enough I just ignored it until my neighbor knocked on the door and told me it was another terrorist attack. I was completely alone in the house. My son was across the state visiting his grandparents for the week. Brent was at work. The phone lines were jammed. I couldn't call anyone. I borrowed the neighbor's cell phone, but it didn't do any good. This recalls my father's experience way back in the seventies with the Big Flood. The person in charge of civil emergency and evacuation knocked on his door at 6 AM and when my father answered, he shouted, "Run for your lives. The water is coming!"
So much for avoiding panic. My son wasn't with me. It was my job to keep him safe. I couldn't do that. It made me feel very helpless and worried for a while.
I rounded up enough batteries to operate my boombox radio and found a station that was still broadcasting. It was only a couple of yokel DJ's and they were mostly taking calls from people around the Detroit area. No one knew what was going on yet, and there was rampant speculation. People called in saying that power plants were on fire. I had plastic and duct tape on hand. I wondered if I should...? Nah. Someone called the radio station saying that they had no water, so I filled our bathtub. I was in the middle of redecorating Glen's room, so I kept working.
Pretty soon I was convinced that it was "just a blackout," and I managed to reassure myself that my son was in the safest place in the entire fifty states, terrorist attack or no. He was in BFE. I finally got through to some people on the phone and resigned myself to life without electricity.
That evening, we cooked by light of a gas lamp and finished putting up the wallpaper border in Glen's room. We used my bathtub full of emergency water to dip the wallpaper. It worked extremely well. My husband, Brent, suggested I could conserve by taking a bath in it. Later, when he drained the tub, I chastised him. "We were going to drink that!" What fun a bathtub full of water can be!
Then we walked the dog in the pitch dark. Where was the moon? Monday was a full moon. Where was the *&%#ing moon? Did it rise late? Can someone explain this? We made our way through the blackness. We carried a lantern, but kept it off so our eyes could adjust better. A few idiots shone flashlights in our faces. And some little boys were out having WAY too much fun with flashlights. Two people had generators. I decided the best place to be was inside their houses, enjoying the comforts of modern technology. And the worst place was to be next door, with no electricity, listening to that godawful noise. The total darkness got kind of creepy. I felt more in touch with my primitive side. I was glad to get home.
As happens in every power outage, we found ourselves getting very sleepy rather early in the night. I left the dishes in the sink. The authorities had assured us the water was clean, but to please conserve it. You don't have to tell me twice. Sorry, can't wash 'em tonight! We went out on the balcony and had a quick look at the stars, then we went to bed.
We woke up really EARLY Friday morning. I looked at my alarm clock first thing. Still no electricity. Damn. We were in for a long day. Needed a shower desperately, and took one. Ahhh. Milk spoiled overnight. Brent
couldn't get a hold of the office, so he valiantly decided to go in. They got power fairly early in the day. We didn't. What a goddamned long day. I finished work in Glen's bedroom, replacing the furniture, the hardware, cleaning up, etc. I listened to the radio all day, and kept checking the lights. No electricity. I talked to Brent on the phone a couple of times. You got power yet? No, no power. I kept looking at the clock. It must be three in the afternoon already. No, it's only eleven thirty. Jesus Christ, what a f*cking godamned shitty long day!
The radio commentators begged people who were just regaining their electricity not to turn on their air conditioners, because they were hogging power. I wanted to kick their asses. Brent called again. You got power? No, no power. I stole a frozen burrito from our chest freezer downstairs. Still frozen. Good. It was only noon.
I didn't miss A/C, because we didn't have it. But I did miss my window fans and my lights. And I had a bunch of errands planned for that day that required a functioning civilization, not anarchy. Damned irritating. It started raining. Really raining. Brent came home and I went with him back to the office. Many roads were flooded. Brent told me to keep my eyes peeled for horsemen.
At work, I used the computer while Brent wandered around, not working. They had power, but many of their clients and vendors in New York didn't. We tried to run some errands. No success. Went home to find power on and water all over the basement floor--the first time ever. Containers outdoors which had been previously empty now had two inches of water.
We had been without power for about twenty four hours. Not the longest power outage of my life, but made different, stranger, and more inconvenient by the fact that everyone and everything around us had no power either. It was not possible to shop, or to buy gas (fortunately we didn't need any) or get money from an ATM. At times, you couldn't even make a phone call. Fortunately, we always had water!
We finally packed up and went to Battle Creek to get our son. We passed many generators on trucks going east. Also saw a lot of tanker trucks, headed for Detroit. When we came back, we saw generators on trucks heading back WEST, apparently having done their job. Life is almost normal, now. If it had been terrorists, I'd say they'd be feeling pretty sheepish by now, having done nothing more than wasting a few million gallons of milk. Take that, West Coast! Now who's got the big bad blackout? Nyah nyah nyah...
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