Power drops and the emergency lights go on. Cool, I think, a little excitement in the day is always appreciated, especially as I didn't lose any work. (I have good "save reflexes".) All the staff around me are calling relatives and friends, and I learn through them that the power outage covers New York, to Ontario, to Chicago (sic). Wow. This is big. Of course the question of terrorists crosses my mind.
Joe has no clue of the magnitude. His building is on the hospital's grid, so all he noticed was a brownout before the hospital's generators kicked in. It's incredibly reassuring to see how smoothly that critical transition happened. After I call him, though, he starts looking for news on the web.
It's rush hour, and with the traffic lights out, traffic around the Health System is completely snarled. I get updated news from the radio. Cleveland, not Chicago. But mostly the announcers are spinning their wheels; they have little useful information. One station is transmitting via mobile satillite dishes. The station comes and goes as the signal fluctuates. I go to Joe's office and park illegally. No way are the UM traffic cops going to be able to get to my car to give it a ticket. Ha ha ha! (In Ann Arbor's perpetual parking war, you take your victories where you can.)
We decide to wait it out for an hour. I grab dinner at the hospital cafeteria where they're handing out free ice cream for some promotional event. It won't be the only ice cream I eat that night. The cashier tells me that France's power, too, was down. Uh, right. I decide that one is one tall rumor that I am not going to help spread.
I take a gamble, because it seems risky and thus fun, and take the elevator back up. There are two maintenance techs in the elevator, and their walkie-talkies are abuzz with other techs looking for people trapped in elevators. They get off at the next floor, leaving me to wonder if maybe if I'd be their next rescue. (No such luck.)
We finally leave around 6:15-ish. The roads are empty. Hoody hoo! We dash over to our Tai Chi school, where a beginner's class is scheduled to start at 6:30pm. We know out teacher, who lives an hour away, is not going to make it on time - if at all, and we wonder, with all the craziness, who's going to show? The answer: two beginners, and one of them a completely new student. Evan, another advanced student, and I conduct class. It's sweltering hot, and I'm soaked to the skin, which doesn't usually happen during the beginner's class. A few other advance students show up, and at the end of the beginner's class we do the complete form. (Around 23 minutes.) I'm amazed that no one passed out in the heat. We forego the advance class that follows. It's too hot, and even more importantly, it's getting dark.
After class, Joe and I have no clue what to do. We end up cruising around Ann Arbor. On East University a Chinese restaurant has set up a grill and is selling kabobs and grilled chicken on the street. A Middle Eastern cafe on S. University is selling all sandwiches and pastries at 30% off. We're the only people with flashlights. I have a mini flashlight I keep in my purse, and Joe has the larger maglite we carry in the car. The cafe has one flashlight, and it's back in the kitchen. I use my mini-torch to light up the display cases and get us meat and spinach pies for dinner. One customer says in awe, "You could survive in the jungle." No, that'd be my inlaws. (For real.) I have no intention of running the battery down so that other people can see what flavors of Snapple are in the case, and I leave the cafe and its patrons in the growing dark.
We cruise over toward the Main St. area, passing first down State St. Much of the University's Central Campus is ablaze with light. All of Angel Hall is lit. (And that's a big building.) Truly the University's generator capacity is amazing. In fact, you can hear the generators roaring into the night, steam pouring into the sky as they labor to run the hospital and campus. I am later surprised to read a news article where a student complains about the U not being better prepared. Most places from New York to Toronto to Detroit have lost *all* power, and he is complaining that the only light he can find in the library to study by is in the stairwell? (He should have gone to Angel Hall.) Turns out he is a disgruntled grad student studying for a final exam in the library. Sorry dude, but emergency medical services are more important than you reading your econ textbook.
On Liberty, we see people strolling along the streets with candles. Kilwin's ice cream shop is selling ice cream by candlelight. They set out candles on their sidewalk tables, and a party had gathered. We couldn't resist $1 cups of premium ice cream. A Kilwin's employee futilely tries to explain to a candel-bearing customer why using a waxed-coated paper cup as a "candle holder" is a bad idea. People are laughing. They're having a good time out here. The vibe is very good.
At home we pause to take in the sky. A red, red moon is rising in the East. The sky, much to my surprise, doesn't show any more stars than a normal night. The moon and a thin layer of cloudly haze means that the star gazing at my house wasn't much better than usual, which is still better than what most AA-Ypsi city folk get. But that red moon... that moon is beautiful. Later, when it leaves the earth's shadow, the moon will turn silver.
Power returned Friday afternoon, but not before we descended upon friends to beg the use of their shower (We have a well, and modern wells require electricity. No juice, no water.) and passed a portion of the afternoon visiting. Blackouts sure make it easier to find time to visit with friends.
I have added a link to a great page on electricity in Ontario that talks about deregulation, privatization, blackouts and more.
Posted by: ontario electricity | February 01, 2004 at 09:17 AM