N. America’s experience of a blackout
Aug 19, 2003
<b>Letter from Toronto</b><br><br>The writer takes you through how they coped in the recent power cut
By Opiyo Oloya
THE standard conversation starter used to be: Where were you when President John F. Kennedy was shot? Then two years ago, it became: Where were you when hijacked planes hit the twin towers at the World Trade Centre in New York City? Well, as of last Thursday, the new conversational starter is: Where were you during the Big Blackout of 2003?
Historians tell us that the last major power outage occurred at 5:27 p.m., on November 9, 1965, plunging into darkness the entire Northeast area of the United States and large parts of Canada. It was big then, and this one was even bigger because of the sheer number of people left in the dark-roughly 60 millions.
At precisely 4:07 p.m. last Thursday, the time when power cut out in Aurora, I was outside mowing the lawn. Thinking that the circuit was overloaded because my wife was busy vacuuming the house at the same time, I suggested she put off the job until after the lawn was done. I had promised to take Oceng for a bike ride at 4:30 PM, and knew I would be pestered to no end until the promise was fulfilled. But, there was no power.
My neighbour, returning from work a few minutes later, reported a complete power failure in the city of Aurora. Since we could not turn on the TV, I turned to the tiny battery-powered Grundig radio purchased during the Iraq war last March. From CBC, we learned that the damage was spread throughout the Northeast states of New York, Ohio, and Michigan as well as the province of Ontario in Canada. Always camera-ready, American leaders had already ruled out a terrorists attack. New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg, New York State Governor George Pataki, and US President George Bush had all chimed in with some innocuous words. There was no word from Toronto Mayor Mel “Motor-Mouth†Lastman, Ontario Premier Ernie Eves and Canadian Prime Minister Jean Chretien. During the entire crisis we would never hear a word from the latter.
The radio brought news of chaos everywhere, and valiant deeds. In Toronto and New York, ordinary citizens immediately jumped into the fray to begin directing traffic at major intersections, leaving police to deal with serious problems.
In my household, meanwhile, we took stock on what we had to survive. For the first time in our marriage, my wife acknowledged that there’s some good in my boy-scout philosophy, which ordinarily drives her nuts. For example, as a matter of habit, I always keep two filled gas tanks for the BBQ. Equipped with a side-cooker, the BBQ guaranteed us hot meals for at least one week should the power outage last that long. Moreover, as backup, there was my trusty five-year old Peak One paraffin pressure stove.
My camping experience also won the day in providing much-needed light. There were several flashlights, all carrying fresh batteries. In addition, there were several durable candles (which my wife is in the habit of throwing out and I am in the habit of rescuing and hiding away from her) that could potentially burn for 48 hours non-stop. There were plenty of matches for lighting those candles.
In the food department, the refrigerator could keep food fresh up to six hours without power. There was also plenty of leftover camping dry food and soup that could last a few days.
Another habit that came in handy is never allowing the car and van to run on empty. Early that morning, I had debated whether to fill my gas tank or hurry to work at school. Luckily, I filled up the crusty old Corolla. My wife’s van is refilled every time we run it, which is only occasionally.
So, while neighbours scrambled for food and light, we sat back pretty, marveling at the wonders of living without power. Neighbours sat with neighbour to chat. Strangers stopped to ask perfect strangers on how they were coping. Then, as darkness chased away the remnants of the day, stars came out in the clear sky over Toronto. A remarkable calm descended over the city, such that you could hear dogs barking in the furthest corner of the city or a cough from three streets away. Wailing sirens occasionally broke the serenity as emergency crews responded to a serious problem.
The following day, together with my stranded brother on his way back home to Windsor, Ontario, I spent three hours in line for petrol. Sitting there, with nothing to do, brought back memories of the mid-70s woes at the pump during the reign of Idi Amin whom we later learned had passed away in Saudi Arabia.
Somehow, as Iraqis have already pointed out, the power outage gave North Americans a taste of what billions of people worldwide live with on a daily basis.
Hopefully, some lessons have been learned, but judging by how quickly people have returned to consuming power, may be nothing was learned.
oloyao@ycdsb.edu.on.ca
THE standard conversation starter used to be: Where were you when President John F. Kennedy was shot? Then two years ago, it became: Where were you when hijacked planes hit the twin towers at the World Trade Centre in New York City? Well, as of last Thursday, the new conversational starter is: Where were you during the Big Blackout of 2003?
Historians tell us that the last major power outage occurred at 5:27 p.m., on November 9, 1965, plunging into darkness the entire Northeast area of the United States and large parts of Canada. It was big then, and this one was even bigger because of the sheer number of people left in the dark-roughly 60 millions.
At precisely 4:07 p.m. last Thursday, the time when power cut out in Aurora, I was outside mowing the lawn. Thinking that the circuit was overloaded because my wife was busy vacuuming the house at the same time, I suggested she put off the job until after the lawn was done. I had promised to take Oceng for a bike ride at 4:30 PM, and knew I would be pestered to no end until the promise was fulfilled. But, there was no power.
My neighbour, returning from work a few minutes later, reported a complete power failure in the city of Aurora. Since we could not turn on the TV, I turned to the tiny battery-powered Grundig radio purchased during the Iraq war last March. From CBC, we learned that the damage was spread throughout the Northeast states of New York, Ohio, and Michigan as well as the province of Ontario in Canada. Always camera-ready, American leaders had already ruled out a terrorists attack. New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg, New York State Governor George Pataki, and US President George Bush had all chimed in with some innocuous words. There was no word from Toronto Mayor Mel “Motor-Mouth†Lastman, Ontario Premier Ernie Eves and Canadian Prime Minister Jean Chretien. During the entire crisis we would never hear a word from the latter.
The radio brought news of chaos everywhere, and valiant deeds. In Toronto and New York, ordinary citizens immediately jumped into the fray to begin directing traffic at major intersections, leaving police to deal with serious problems.
In my household, meanwhile, we took stock on what we had to survive. For the first time in our marriage, my wife acknowledged that there’s some good in my boy-scout philosophy, which ordinarily drives her nuts. For example, as a matter of habit, I always keep two filled gas tanks for the BBQ. Equipped with a side-cooker, the BBQ guaranteed us hot meals for at least one week should the power outage last that long. Moreover, as backup, there was my trusty five-year old Peak One paraffin pressure stove.
My camping experience also won the day in providing much-needed light. There were several flashlights, all carrying fresh batteries. In addition, there were several durable candles (which my wife is in the habit of throwing out and I am in the habit of rescuing and hiding away from her) that could potentially burn for 48 hours non-stop. There were plenty of matches for lighting those candles.
In the food department, the refrigerator could keep food fresh up to six hours without power. There was also plenty of leftover camping dry food and soup that could last a few days.
Another habit that came in handy is never allowing the car and van to run on empty. Early that morning, I had debated whether to fill my gas tank or hurry to work at school. Luckily, I filled up the crusty old Corolla. My wife’s van is refilled every time we run it, which is only occasionally.
So, while neighbours scrambled for food and light, we sat back pretty, marveling at the wonders of living without power. Neighbours sat with neighbour to chat. Strangers stopped to ask perfect strangers on how they were coping. Then, as darkness chased away the remnants of the day, stars came out in the clear sky over Toronto. A remarkable calm descended over the city, such that you could hear dogs barking in the furthest corner of the city or a cough from three streets away. Wailing sirens occasionally broke the serenity as emergency crews responded to a serious problem.
The following day, together with my stranded brother on his way back home to Windsor, Ontario, I spent three hours in line for petrol. Sitting there, with nothing to do, brought back memories of the mid-70s woes at the pump during the reign of Idi Amin whom we later learned had passed away in Saudi Arabia.
Somehow, as Iraqis have already pointed out, the power outage gave North Americans a taste of what billions of people worldwide live with on a daily basis.
Hopefully, some lessons have been learned, but judging by how quickly people have returned to consuming power, may be nothing was learned.
oloyao@ycdsb.edu.on.ca