Later I was content to hunker down and read by the fireplace. Alden, who kept finding excuses to get out in the action, reported much of the town was worse off than we - wires down everywhere, boxes pulled right off houses, poles and trees blocked driveways and streets! I could picture the bustle as friend Charlie Small, working by flashlight at Audette's, sold out of generators, batteries and lamp oil and totaled up by hand.
Day 2- Friday 1/9: I'm very content without power and only fireplace heat as long as we have the phone so I don't feel isolated. I need to keep in touch with Mom and Dad, our kids and friends. Many of the latter lost both phone and power. In fact, 275,000 homes are without power. Staggering thought. And that was only the beginning. Line crews were coming in from all over to help CMP.
Friends coming here for water were good company and brought news. Judy Nisbett told of a flock of cedar waxwings alighting on an ice-laden tree by her garage. These small bodies added just enough weight to send the whole top crashing in a spray of ice shards and branches.
I still have no desire to venture out. It was unheard of, and wonderful just to sit reading by the fireplace in the afternoon-though it sure got dark early. How thankful I was for left-overs, such easy meals for the one burner camp stove. Learned after just one day to have larger meal at noon so less clean-up after dark. Still freezing rain but not much wind or too cold. Fell asleep by the fireplace, all wrapped up. Woke later to the house about 40 degrees.
Day 3- Saturday 1/10: Hooray! Sun's out and sparkling like diamonds beautifully shimmering off every shattered tree. That gets me outdoors with the camera. Much damage to pines, tamarack, maples and apple trees - though the 2 apples behind the garage (the ones Alden wants to cut) lost barely a twig! The poor birch clumps are gracefully arched to the ground and look so sad. Not many snapped off though.
The woods beyond, however, are mostly straight sticks like dark toothpicks or oddly sharpened pencils, with stark beige splinters where their tops should be, trees with great limbs at sharp downward angles, 10-15 foot branches are snapped off and hanging crazily from the top of the formerly beautiful maple we planted in Jeanette's memory. I could cry.
WGAN"s morning radio show has been going all day, full of reports from Gov. King, CMP and call-ins. One little boy had a creative mom. He said she had him vacuuming with duct tape, because the dog was shedding. He thought it was really just to keep him busy!
How thankful we are that Scott got a generator after waiting in line at Wal-mart's parking lot most of the day Friday. Like many others he's been running a generator brigade. The temporary warmth, hot water and lights he brought were much appreciated by us and friends without them. Oh the blessings of hot showers. I'll never forget the welcome noise of generators!
By this morning I was uneasy. I'd "circled the wagons" long enough. I itched to be out helping somewhere. But where, and how? Enough of this hibernating! I wanted to help. Before many hours God found a way to use us. Cathy and Oak Osborn joined the showerline outside our bathroom door and asked if we would help them cook at the Red Cross Shelter on Sunday. Linda Pratt needed time for planning and organizing.
Day 4- Sunday 1/11: After 5:30 Sunday a.m. there was hardly time to think, and it was far from lonely. Jane and Leo Lambert came, too. Leo knows little about a kithen, but sure found lots of ways to help. It was great to have Frances Hunt and Lottie & Henry Carlson there as they knew more about the routine at the Shelter. The six of us were like the blind leading the blind, except for the cooking part! What a lot of good was being done at the Shelter! I felt thankful to have had a small part in providing nurture for those unable to be in their cold, dark homes. After 15 hours we fell into bed exhausted but exhilarated. My last thought before sleep was of how blessed we were to be able to obey Jesus' command to "feed my sheep."
Day 5- Monday 1/12: Sometimes in the past I've felt overwhelmed when deciding what to prepare for family get-togethers of only 15-19 people. I was really overwhelmed at the thought of helping Caro Kaiser feed whoever came through the open doors of our Winthrop United Methodist Church. But I'd given God my day so I tried to be brave. My mouth was dry. I felt like I was going into the unknown, or marching into battle. Actually, it was more like we were expected to feed the 5,000 without Jesus' power to perform miracles! I was wrong. We all did have Jesus' power. I should never have doubted. We saw the parable of the loaves and fishes take place over and over and over. From here on, the days ran from one into another; blended so thoroughly and beautifully, that I cannot separate them in my mind.
I do remember gathering a sign early that Monday morning as we ran out the door. After my last hospice training, I shared a meaningful speaker's comment with Priscilla Conner. She enjoyed it, too, and - you know our dear Pris. She brought me a banner of the same! Posted over the door leading our to the dining room, I hoped it wouId remind all who went to serve our guests to speak accordingly. It read: " Feelings are Everywhere, Speak Gently." I think it helped those of us who mostly clustered around the sinks and stoves, too.
That morning Caro had the insight to ask Vicki next door for 'day-old' flowers to make our tables more welcoming. A young helper, Chelsea Farwell went on the errand. Back she came with fresh long-stemmed pink roses and almstromeria. Wonderful! But the miracle of God's timing was that Pat West knew former nursery owner Nat Stinchfield (who could only help a short while) was available to arrange them.
I must include a couple of examples of the good humor and laughter that
flowed in spite of the pressure and weariness:
Irene Cumber, who helped in the kitchen, told of Grace Dwyer (a knowledgeable,
faithful, hardworking kitchen angel if ever there was one) poking Irene
playfully on the arm with her long-handled fork, saying: "yep, you're done!"
And Priscilla Connor laughing fit to kiss - unbeknownst to us as she watched
Rita Oellers and I juggle huge shallow pans of liquid jellied salad outside to our
"walk-in refrigerator." We were trying to find a place to set them down without
them spilling or sliding away on the ice-covered snow. There were times of
high hilarity, but I know; it would have been funnier had you been there.
Early in the week Caro bought all of the angel pins at her favorite shop. Those
of us so honored, wore those "kitchen angels" with pride.
There was a running commentary from those who came to serve or be served about where the power trucks had been seen, and blow by blow descriptions of the hardy workers as they inched nearer each home. A mighty cheer of joy went up every time the grand announcement was made of power restored. (Even as I clapped, and hugged Alden with relief, when told at the shelter on Sunday that ours was on, I admit to a twinge of guilt at having ours back after only 86 hours. Some friends were without for 2 weeks!)
God, I thank you for wonderful helpers. People who just saw what needed to be done and did it. And not just at church. With more snow predicted for Thursday, son Galen worked to get the branches out of our driveway so it could be plowed. He knew his Dad didn't want to take time from the kitchen. Next day Rod Cumber spent time scooping our driveway. He also sanded both at church and in our driveway.
And for God's protection, I'm thankful. With all that chopping and cutting and slicing and stirring and frying, there were no serious injuries! The only morning I stopped to have a brief morning prayer with Alden for God's protection of everyone at church was the day he cut himself. But it was very slight, in an area where it could have been serious. You'lI have to ask Helen Neff about her injury on the mighty sandwich assembly line. We don't publicize it except in photographs.
I'm thankful for all who continuously made sandwiches. They fed emergency crews, firemen, police, and were the backbone of every lunch meal we served -- and greatly appreciated. I'd think you'd never want to see another slice of bread. Endless pots of hot church-made soup meant hours of peeling and cutting vegetables and meat. Talk about "Chicken Soup for the Soul"...we had it, often!
And Steve! Some days I don't know how he stood all the laughter and commotion. He was working so hard at tracking down the elderly and people who lived alone, helping meet their needs and solve serious problems. On top of his usual pastoral duties, including getting ready for a funeral, he tried to help out in the kitchen and make sure we delivered hot meals to those who needed them!
About Day 7 of the ice storm the temperature dropped, the wind increased and the real agony set in. By then we really knew the 'regulars,' older folks and younger families alike who came each noon and night. So we cared in an even deeper way when we heard jubilation as power was returned. Too often, however, this was followed by heartbreaking tales and bitter discouragement as problems were magnified by frozen, then bursting pipes. Sometimes we could direct them to sources of assistance. Sometimes all we could do was listen, hug and care.
There's no way I can express the thanks I feel - to God and to so many of you,
I've concentrated on the service angle, but have only touched the surface of the gifts and talents so many of you gave that we might truly meet needs at this unusual time. I'll never forget the real pleasure it gave me to look out at tables full of people whose loads were, for a while, made lighter as their bodies and hearts were warmed and filled. The dear people from within our congregation and those who came for the first time received light and warmth, companionship and someone to listen. That's what it was all about, they came 'needy' and left filled and loved.
I think of the members of our church family working at the Red Cross Shelter. They and Lois Small, who became the volunteer coordinator, continued the caring ministry at the Shelter. As Steve said, "There were pockets of witness all over town."
I want to go back to the miracle of the loaves and fishes. It wasn't one big miracle, it was one little miracle after another. Alden and I would come down to church in the morning, knowing what food was there when we left the night before, with menu plans in mind. In the meantime, MORE food would have come in - by the loaf, the batch, the box and the van full. Then Bob Strickland would arrive to see what more we could use from the Food Bank. Cathy Osborn from the Soup kitchen also shared generously. It was overwhelming, and wonderful. There were many holy moments. Quickly menu plans would change so nothing would be wasted, meat that had begun to thaw would be cooked, and all would be fed.
Jesus' command to Peter and his disciples to "Feed my sheep if you love me" has always seemed so stirring and important to me, but I never thought to have such a privilege--the opportunity to have a part in really doing it. And, WE didn't do it. GOD did it through all of us. There were never too few people to do the job. The food would get alarmingly low but the larder would just get filled again to overflowing.
All I can say is thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your part in the miracle...for your time, energy, talents, money gifts...and your prayers. I hope you were as blessed as I.
As life returned to a somewhat more normal state, people went back to their jobs, but many still came back to dark, cold homes. Some hurried here to be warm and/or to help for the evening.
I have to ask your indulgence for the times I saw a photo opportunity, then had such fun taking pictures another had to step in to do the job I'd left half- finished. [View the Photo Album that resulted from Priscilla's picture taking] Then, and when I talked with the journalists, someone always pitched in for me without complaint. Thank you. The last couple of days, as the need tapered off, it was difficult to know when to stop. I guess that's what happened to one small church mouse as well! The last day we sort of tied up loose ends, fed far fewer people but celebrated our time together...and 2 birthdays. Our youngest grandson, Anthony, was with us and turned 3 with candles on a muffin at noon. Chelsea Farwell was surprised by gifts and a cake. It was only fitting we celebrated her 12th birthday the last day our Free Food sign was displayed.
To all you young people who had a home-away-from-home in the storm, it was great to have you. Thank you for ALL you did, including baby-sitting. You are loved and appreciated.
I must include a few jottings that were really meaningful from Steve's Church services during and just after the Ice-In. In random order:
Thanks, Steve, for helping us think about where we had been and what we had been about.
This kitchen mouse knew from the start that she couldn't mention all who gave so lovingly. I hope each of you, young and old, kept a journal during the storm to preserve your experience forever. If it didn't get done, please feel free to make these jottings your own. Please add your story and memories on the margins and on back of this saga for your record of the Great Ice Storm of'98. Feel thanked and appreciated as you insert your name anywhere it belongs. I wrote from the perspective of the Winthrop United Methodist Church because I'm so proud to be a member. Let's never forget that feeling,
You can say to your grandchildren, as Alden often does to ours, "back when I was a boy"...only 'twill be..."back in January of '98 there was REALLY an ice storm...!"