Ice Storm

The weather forecast was for icicles (see previous post) and boy, did we get icicles. Central Virginia got an ice storm. The power went off, and with it, my home heating system. Also not running: my fridge. The electric stove was not usable. The electric water heater was not working. I walked down the street

to my friend Butch's house. His power was off, but he had a fireplace and just as important—firewood to burn for heat. I have a fireplace with a wood-burning insert, but I had no wood to burn in it. I'm now re-thinking my no-wood policy.

About 5 hours later, the electricity came on again. That lasted 15 minutes, and the electric power went off. Butch's house was getting cold, but the room with the fireplace was livable. I was wearing a heavy, long-sleeved shirt and jeans over long johns, and I was comfortable. Darkness fell and the room was illuminated by candles and the wood fire. It makes a nice picture, but no electricity meant no TV and no radio, and when our cell phone batteries ran low on charge, we had no way to recharge them so we powered them off to conserve battery.

The night grew late, and I lay on the sofa under a heavy blanket, while Butch slept in his chair under a blanket. I was comfortable. Butch got up several times during the night to put wood on the fire. The night passed uneventfully.

The next morning, power was still off. When a power outage occurs over a wide area, such as central Virginia, service is restored according to a schedule. Power plants, high-voltage transmission lines, and substations are brought online. Then, power is restored to essential services and facilities critical to public health and safety such as hospitals, nursing homes, fire and police departments, and water systems. Then crews are dispatched to repair lines that will return service to the largest number of customers in the least amount of time. Finally, individual homes and small groups of homes have power restored.

I decided to take a nap—my go-to inactivity when I have nothing to do. I awoke at midday, and looked at the clock. The red LED digits were blinking "12:04," meaning the clock had been powered on for four minutes. Holy cow, we had electricity again!

We allowed the fire to die down to red coals, and we put a firescreen in front of the fireplace, and we drove to get something to eat. We first went to McDonalds. The lights were on and there were people inside, but they were closed. Earlier in the day, they were the only restaurant open for miles, and now they were out out of food.

We drove on, and we ended up at Arby's. This wasn't just any Arby's. My small city has the world's largest Arby's restaurant. From where I was dining, I snapped a photo of a totem pole inside the restaurant, because totem poles are cool. I sent the photo to a friend who lives in another country and ten seconds later I received a reply. Modern times!

We ate our meals and Butch drove us to our homes. First to my home, where he dropped me off, and then he continued to his own home (I presume).

The heating system was running. I could hear the boiler running in the cellar, and the radiators were hot. The house was warming up. I checked the freezer compartment of my refrigerator. The frozen foods were still frozen and the ice-maker was full of ice cubes. I survived, the house survived, and neither of us seems worse for the experience.

I'll have to ponder what lessons to take away from this. I have a 9800 BTU kerosene heater that I used to use in winter. Maybe I should clean the wick and keep a few gallons of kerosene on hand for it. Maybe I should buy a home generator sufficient to power the boiler in the basement and the fridge. The question boils down to how much money do I want to spend on something that may not happen again in the time remaining to me, however much or little that may be. As I said, I'll have to ponder that question.

For those who want to see more local photos of the storm's aftermath, visit this link.

Stay warm and stay safe!