Happy Campers

Let me tell you, you ought to be more careful about the way you use that term, “happy camper”. I am not a happy camper and I’ll let you know when that changes.  In fact, I don’t want to be a camper at all, especially in my own home.

There are trained professionals, men and women of daring and determination charged with the job of restoring folks to happy camper status and I ran into several of them in my alley just awhile ago. Public Utility Service employees out of Corpus, drove 8 hours and went right to work helping restore electricity to almost a quarter of a million North Texans.   

“Well, at least we can get some happy campers over here on these two blocks,”

I heard of one the out-of-towners say. He seemed to motion toward my block. I wanted to interrupt and ask the one question they hear a hundred times a day in situations like these, “HOW LONG WILL IT BE?” Instead, I kept a respectful distance. There was purpose to their movement and discussion and it was not something you would ever want to interrupt. They were serious and did not dawdle. They were weathered and wore work jump-suits, helmets, boots and gloves, but appeared professional in every way.

They were discussing “Plan B”. Their original plan for the 4-5 block patch of houses surrounding me on three sides had hit a snag. Our outage was a big job – lots of limbs on wires in the alleys, blown transformers, and meters and service wires snapped off of the side of houses from falling timber. Their “saw truck” had been diverted to another area for a couple of hours.  However, it was immediately apparent that these are not people who ever say, “Uh-oh, this is hard, let’s go home.” Assessing that they could do some but not all of the area until the saws arrived, they immediately made a plan to restore the areas where they wouldn’t need saws.

It’s all on the national TV news and, if I had power, I could confirm that Dallas is in the midst of a mean winter storm. Here it is early December and it is acting like its February. I have lived through crippling North Texas  ice storms and been without electricity for longer periods during and after other storms, but it has been a long time since we have lost power for more than a couple of hours and suffered the extreme cold and wind chill that this storm brought.  My dear wife reminds me it was really cold and we lost power for 2 plus days just a few years ago. Isn’t memory loss a symptom of hypothermia? I guess I am learning what they mean when they say this kind of weather is particularly hard on older people. Every storm makes you feel a little older.

A friend of my wife’s, from Minnesota, wrote on Facebook before we lost power, “-2”.  People will laugh and say, “Oh Dallas, why don’t you try a real winter like we have in Minnesota or Alaska?” Having lived in Vermont, I know what real cold is, but the people, homes and infrastructure in Texas are geared for the blast furnace of June – August, heat that would bring a North Dakotan, who doesn’t even own an air conditioner,  to his knees.  Last night, my bride and I sent the last of the nest dwellers to a friend’s house and hunkered down.  We built a cozy den in front of the fireplace and the three dogs circled in.  We listened to the battery powered, hand-crank radio. We danced.  We ate soup. When we woke at 3 a.m. the temperature outside was 18 and the wind chill was about 0. That’s cold anywhere, if you don’t have heat. Our fire was very low, so I got up and threw on a few logs. With the flashlight I could see the heavy frost of my breath and could feel the frigid draft around the fireplace. Yet, we survived and the dogs thoroughly enjoyed it.

We were not as enthusiastic about a second night of roughing it and came home to get provisions for an overnight stay (though we had heard rumors it might be 5 days before electricity was restored) when we saw the trucks had arrived. The sight of trucks and emergency lights and workers combing the alleys reminded us that when there is real trouble, people, will come. Help will arrive.

My wife put this on Facebook with her phone, you know, since everything else is cold and powerless:

“Here are some of my gratitudes I have on day two with no electricity on a very cold day In Dallas, Tx…My fireplace, my husband still cooking cuz we have our gas stove, my friends who have offered their homes , our great neighbors coming together, our three dogs who slept with us and kept us warm, laptops to watch movies, our great sleeping bags, the fact that our trees didn’t fall on our cars or house ( like our neighbors), my upbeat husband, my hot shower this morning, clean underwear, working flashlights, our crank radio, really great hot coffee, and our health. “

To that, I would add a gratitude for the people who come out in frozen weather when the rest of us are scrambling to get inside and get warm. It takes a special person to come out in the worst weather situations to risk their lives to help people have light and comfort in their homes.  As far as first responders, Public Utility Service workers get far less credit than they deserve.  I, for one, have discovered a deep and profound appreciation. In a little while my lights and heat will be back on and I will probably sink back into the “take it for granted” mindset. I hope not, but we are human. In just a week and a half the whole gang will be home for the holidays. There will food, warmth and joy. I will try to take a moment and send a prayer of thanks toward the people from Corpus and or anywhere else, where there are people who get a call in the night to chase the path of a tornado or hurricane or winter storm,  in hope that they are home with their families, warm and dry, and joyous and the one’s who are working somewhere can get home soon.  The next time there is a natural disaster I’ll think of what Mr. Roger’s said:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers — so many caring people in this world.”

That, was last night. Today, my electricity is on and the house is warm. Some of my neighbors are, not yet, so lucky. Around the neighborhood, I can hear the “Beep-beeping” of trucks backing up and saws clearing the lines, creating happy campers, one block at a time.