A suddenly flaky internet connection was the first sign. Usually this means a thunderstorm is on the way, or else someone has cut my ISP’s fiber cable again. I looked at a weather map, and saw that a very strong storm was brewing across southern Missouri and southern Illinois. But I couldn’t have guessed just how bad of a storm it would be.
Moments later a weather alert email appeared, saying there was a tornado watch in effect. I heard rain and thunder, and a little later my lights flickered and went out. The wind was picking up, so I went to a window to see what was happening.
By then the wind had turned to a dull roar. Sheets of rain were blowing horizontally across the ground. The trees were bending and swaying. Every so often the wind would die down just a bit, and then a blast of spray would flush through the trees, shaking every limb and leaf. The wind patterns, how they traveled over the roofs of the nearby apartments, and moved along the ground, cannot be described. It was like nothing I’d ever witnessed. It made me think of hurricane footage I’d seen on TV. (I later learned the wind gusts had exceeded 100 mph. The radio hosts called it an “inland hurricane.”)
I got my camera and took a little bit of video. But even though I was on the south side of the house, with the winds coming from the north, the currents were so strong that they kept blowing spray back under my porch, so I had to put the camera away to keep it from getting wet. Just seconds after I turned it off, I saw a tree fall in the woods behind my place, just a few feet from where I had aimed the camera.
The winds continued unabated for a little while, I’m not sure how long. It seems like it may have been an hour, and then it gradually slowed and stopped. The sun came out, and it might have been a beautiful day, if not for all the damage that had been done.
I got in my car to get my mail at the post office, and was amazed by what I saw. Fallen branches were everywhere. Small pieces of leaves were plastered to the north side of walls and cars and across roofs. I had to stop and clear away some small limbs to get through to the main road. While doing that, I noticed a new stream I had never seen before, emptying into the full and near-to-overflowing ditch that runs under the road.
On highway 34, a large tree had fallen near the Firestones’ home (formerly Dee Hilderbrand’s home, and the Sheltons’ before that), and was fully blocking one lane of the road. Other trees were down all over town. There was no power at the post office, and I was glad snail mail can be retrieved without electricity!
A little later I went into Benton to get some groceries at Wal-Mart. I was surprised to see that the power was off in Benton too, and trees had fallen across the road there in town. I had to take a side street detour to get around. A number of semi trucks, unable to take the side streets, were lined up for a block or so, waiting for a tree to be removed. Many of the traffic lights were not working, so every intersection had become a 4-way stop. It was slow going.
Thankfully at Wal-Mart the power was on. I got everything I needed. I met a coworker, Ted, and his wife there, and Ted told me several tornados had been sighted in the area. He had personally seen a funnel come down, and then go back up, apparently without doing any damage.
Naive as I was about how much damage had occurred, I expected that by the time I finished at Wal-Mart, the tree would be gone, the power would be back on, and everything would be back to normal. But I was surprised that the trip back through town was about the same as before.
I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting in vain for the power to come back. I went for walks, cleaned the house, read a little. I went over to 3ABN, and saw the main power was off there too, and they were running on backup generators. Several of the bradford pear trees were down, blocking the main entrance.
Trees blocking main entrance to 3ABN
I returned home. Eventually the sun set, and the sky turned dark. I pulled out an electric lantern, which thankfully still had a charge from probably a year or more ago, and made sure my flashlight worked. I listened to music, and then, with nothing else to do, I went to bed early — around 8:30.
Sabbath morning the power was still off. I was happy that there was still plenty of hot water, so I had a warm shower. I got dressed and went to church.
With no lighting, the main sanctuary was too dark to be used. But the church has a wing with lots of windows and skylights, so chairs were set up there, and that’s where we had both Sabbath school and church. There was a good class discussion, and in place of the sermon we had a powerful testimony by Brenda Walsh. A lot of people were moved to tears as she told about her recent experience reaching out to women inmates at a particular prison, and the miracles that made it possible. I actually enjoyed the service a lot—the smaller number of people present made it seem more intimate, and we sang regular old hymns with accompaniment from an upright piano. It was like being in a small church family.
I went back home for lunch, and spent the rest of the day reading, walking, and resting. I finally finished a book I had been working on for a couple years now! Although at times I felt a bit bored, the relaxed pace with getting to sleep early, and having no computers or internet, actually seemed rejuvenating.
Saturday night I went on a scouting mission for more groceries and ice. It was then that I began to get an idea of just how bad and widespread the damage was. The groceries were no problem, but ice was not to be found. In the grocery store parking lot I was surprised to see ten “bucket trucks” and some other service vehicles. Listening to the radio, I learned that every city and town around me had been hit, and nearly all had lost power. Some were expecting to be without power for 10-14 more days. I went to the larger city of Marion, but was surprised to find the whole town in darkness. Although the grocery store had lights on, it was closed. I learned most of counties in southern Illinois had imposed an 8:30 or 9:00 curfew because of the storm damage; it was then about 9:30.
At night it was getting quite cool. Usually I sleep with the window a bit open, but I began to wonder if the computer equipment in my bedroom contributes more heat than I thought, because with all of that stuff off, my room was getting almost cold. I actually had a hard time sleeping that second night after the storm, because I was not adequately covered, even after getting up in the middle of the night to add another blanket.
Meanwhile all my food was starting to go bad, as the refrigerator and freezer gradually warmed. My oven is electric, so I was eating only foods that didn’t need heating. I was tempted to pull out my camp cook stove just to get something warm in my stomach, but never did.
On Sunday I heard that our water was going to cease. Reportedly, there was a leak in the town’s water tower, and they were about to shut it off. So I filled every available container with all the water I could. Then, to top it off, I learned that my street’s septic system has an electric pump; with the pump not working, there was danger of it backing up into the houses and apartments. So one of my last creature comforts—an abundance of pure, fresh water, with working toilets and showers—was suddenly yanked out from beneath me. But somehow at this point, I took it in stride, and it didn’t bother me too much. (I later learned the rumor about the water tower was false.)
On Sunday I drove into West Frankfort. I had heard the McDonalds restaurant there offered free wireless internet. Also, I wanted to recharge my laptop, which I could do with an inverter plugged into the cigarette lighter port while driving. I could also catch more news on the car radio (no radio at home). And I could get a bite to eat.
McDonalds was a success. With my iPod Touch I was able to update people about what was happening. (The register attendant seemed a little surprised that I only ordered a lemonade. But what else is there for the health-conscious at McDonalds?) After that I got a “Veggie Delight” at Subway, and returned home.
On the way home I heard gloomy news suggesting that Thompsonville, where I live, might be without power until Tuesday or even Wednesday. Still, I was thankful to be faring well. Many had suffered property damage, even loss of their homes.
A bright spot was listening to the stories on the radio of all the people, businesses, and churches that were doing things to help others in this difficult time. It made me think of what our church could—should—have been doing: providing food, ice, shelter. I also heard many people repeat the same idea: that they were reading books again, talking to their neighbors again, spending time with their families again. With no TV or other gadgets, the simpler pleasures of life were coming back.
Later on Sunday there was a glimmer of hope: I looked down my road, and saw lights. Could it be true? I wondered. I got in my car and drove down to take a look. Sure enough, street lights and building lights were on. Looking down another road, I saw 3ABN’s lights on. I called to let someone know, and then returned home to see if I had power. But I learned that the lights and buildings I had seen were on another power company’s system. My power was still gone. Still, I was a bit cheered as I went to bed.
Early in the morning I got a call from a coworker, Dee, telling me that power was back on. I switched the circuit breakers back to the “on” position, and was happy to hear the sounds of devices coming back to life throughout the house. Warm water, a working refrigerator, a working oven, a computer with Internet access—how blessed we are by all these things we take for granted. But I also learned there are blessings that come when we don’t have them.
* * *
Back at 3ABN, I learned firsthand what some coworkers and others had been through. Some had trees or branches or boards crash through their roofs. The pole barn of one person’s neighbor was completely blown apart, and the pieces were deposited in their yard. One weird story was about coworkers Tom and Vicki: Someone had dumped off a full five ton sceptic tank on their property, when an axel broke on the vehicle that was carrying it. But the owner never came back for it, and the methane began to build pressure. They were told by others that if it exploded it could level their house. Thankfully, after they reported it to local state agencies, it was taken away.
Here’s a picture of the fleet of vehicles that came to restore power. I heard 1300 crew members or more were sent to the area.
To the best of my knowledge, no life was lost due to the storm. And 3ABN remained on air nearly three days without utility power, running on their own generators. And my electric shaver, rechargeable lights, water, and food never ran out.
That’s a very good story! You write pretty good, too!
In the mid 1980s we had a storm in north-west Ohio, near Delphos, that left us without power for something like 12 days. It was summer and we had no backup generator either. But we did heat with wood, so we had wood on hand to burn and a stove to cook on and we had a basement too, so we could to some extent, preserve food.
All of the grocery stores in our area seemed to have power, but none of the people did.