Ice is (not) nice & will suffice

This old line comes from (I think) an Yvon Chouinard article years ago about ice climbing in the Patagonias or somewhere and has absolutely NOTHING to do with what I am about to write. I just remembered it. I used to read a lot about mountain climbing but apart from a couple of 14'ers in Colorado as a kid with my dad ....

Yesterday (OK by now a few days ago) power was restored to our home after being in the dark and without heat for 4 days. I am not simply another BMW. (If you don't know what that means - ask anyone who text messages a lot!)

Those who know me probably know that our home was hit by the March 12, 2006 tornado. That was a devastating experience and one I don't want to repeat. I think parts of my life will always be measured in a sort of twisted B.T. and A.T. We still talk about it a lot. We have only lived in our newer home since the end of March and occasionally we will unpack a box of clothes or something and find insulation that was blown in by the tornado. It is hard to forget and yet I have a bit of that amnesia that comes from anesthetic where you aren't sure what you recall. But my point here was to NOT talk about the tornado.

I think that ice trumps a tornado.

Beginning on Jan. 11 a major ice storm moved into the Ozarks and left layer upon layer of ice on everything - trees, power lines. I guess there were actually three waves of the storm. Since that Friday people begin to lose power as lines sagged and eventually broke under the weight of the ice. Or lines came down when trees fell from the ice. Our turn came on Sunday.

Day one wasn't too bad because we were actually prepared - somewhat. Living in a rural area means our water comes from a well which needs electricity to pump the water out of the ground. Our heat (at least some of it) comes from a wood burning furnace in our garage. It has a blower (electric) which feeds the heat into our regular electric furnace ducts to circulate hot air into our house. Day one temps were in the 20s or so and most people probably don't realize it but walls, furniture and things hold some heat. So our first night started to get cold but it was sort of like camping. My wife and oldest daughter thought to fill pots, jars, the bathtub etc. with water ahead of time so we were also ready with some supply of water for drinking and flushing toilets, etc.

Day two - which was Martin Luther King holiday - began the drop in temps. By that evening we were in single digits. Hard under normal circumstances but almost unbearable when there is no place to get warm. We have animals - 40+ sheep and way too many dogs that need feeding and water so for three or so days I spent maybe 3 to 5 hours hauling water, cleaning out pens, putting straw in dog houses. One fortunate thing is our above ground swimming pool. We have a small one but it still holds several thousand gallons of water. So two or three times a day I'd break the ice (by now 2 - 3 inches thick) with a sledgehammer and scoop out water in buckets. I'd fill these and bring them into our garage and set them by our wood burning furnace. My wife would fill a few metal pots and kept these warm on top of the furnace. Occasionally she warmed or even cooked our food on top of the furnace.

Night #2 was miserable. The following day I spent a great deal of time looking for more propane tanks, D-cell batteries and a generator. I found one locally and bought it. By 2 a.m. the next morning it was up and running (see another blog entry for that story!) It allowed us to make coffee and run a microwave the next morning. But as for heat - it did allow using the blower on the wood furnace but that only blew warm air into the duct work of the house. But there was nothing to push the air around. It made only a few degrees difference in temp. Probably just enough to keep our pipes from freezing. This made night #3 not much better.

Day 4 - hallelujah! Power was restored. My wife was ecstatic and life began to return to normal. No more "if it's yellow, let it mellow."

But the saddest thing, some things may never return to normal. It is as if the Ice-gods (no such thing I know) decreed that no trees should be over a certain height. After our tornado experience, one of the sadder things were the trees that had been toppled. But the tornado path - while plenty big for anyone in it - did not cover a huge area. I've heard that this ice storm was perhaps 100 miles wide from north to south and ran from Oklahoma (and probably beyond that to the west) all the way up to St. Louis moving northeast. It seems that few if any trees survived unscathed. Springfield, where I work, looks like a war zone still. Thousands of trees are down along with power poles and lines. Out in the country it is just as bad but more spread out so you don't notice the damage as much.

I remember as bad as the tornado was for us and many others, we just lost stuff. Stuff can be replaced. Now anyone who knows me, knows I am not a tree-hugger but it is sad to think that we and probably not our children either, will be able to see these trees come back. It is going to take decades and careful planning for any place to ever look as good as it once did.

I feel guilty that as I write this, many are still without power. We tried to do our part. Last weekend we invited one family over for some hot soup etc. to give them a hot meal and a place to warm up.

On Sunday a camo Jeep drove up in front of our house, backed up and pulled in the drive. It was the National Guard out checking on people and providing drinking water. I went out to tell them thanks but we were fine so they could go on to our neighbors who were still without power when my wife stepped out and hollered to ask if they wanted some hot chocolate. I repeated the offer and lo-and-behold they said OK. And one of the guys radioed a Humvee and pretty soon we had a group of 7 Guardsmen and two locals serving who were serving as guides. I had wondered how the guard knew where to go and how to get around.

They came in. Drank some hot chocolate and we talked a little. If I have it straight, three of them have been in Iraq already and three more are going soon. One of the young men looked too young to shave - let alone be in the guard. I think I embarrassed him. He was so young and small. And these are the guys that are thousands of miles away giving up their families, and (maybe some) their lives every day. We appreciated their stopping by and I hope they enjoyed some company and a warm place to be for awhile.

They did share that this experience in the Ozarks was much better than their last storm work in St. Louis. Apparently the folks up there were not nearly as appreciative of their help as Ozarkers have been.

I hope they never have to come back here. I hope they never have to go over there again either.