86 hours without electricity

In August of 2003, while working as a piano store manager, I saw the lights dim for about 30 seconds, then flicker, finally failing entirely, unaware that I was experiencing the first moments of a blackout that covered much of the northeastern United States and parts of Canada.  The area on the west side of Cleveland where I was living and working saw its power restored within 24 hours.  Many others experienced a far longer period without electricity.

Almost exactly 20 years later, just after midnight on Friday, August 25, 2023, I was awakened by a howling noise outside our home in South Euclid, Ohio.  Noticing my electricity was out, I looked out my bedroom window and saw branches on the two large oak trees on our front lawn bending with the wind in a manner I did not know was possible.  Unaware that tornado warnings had been issued locally, I took no special precautions, but went back to bed, confident that power would be restored in short order. 

When I awoke again shortly before 5:00am, I looked out my window again and saw darkness.  Grabbing a flashlight and stepping outdoors, I spotted our recycling bin upended on my neighbor’s property.  I gathered the scattered recyclables, returned them to the bin, then returned the bin to its proper resting place.  Branches of varying sizes were scattered throughout the property.  I heard a work crew nearby.  Following the sounds, I saw they were dealing with a fallen tree one block over.  Walking back to my own street, I saw a tree leaning on a power line. 

Clearly, this was no ordinary storm. The Cleveland area received a record number of tornado warnings within a short space of time – with several touching down and one causing extensive damage in Cleveland’s Midtown district.  Our area is used to winter challenges, summer heat, and seasonal thunderstorms – multiple tornadoes, not so much.  As I wrote in an email to a young relative: Some people will just say “Oh, the climate has always been this way.”  But I am more and more inclined to believe that Mother Earth is pissed-off at us humans, and I don’t blame her.  Beyond a doubt, we are the primary cause of climate change.  Tornado warnings were almost unknown in our area – but we’ve had several in the last 10 years, last night’s caused a lot of damage, and the number of severe storms has increased exponentially.

After Dan left for his job, I headed to my employer’s campus to work (I’ve been largely working from home since the early days of COVID).  As information came in about the extent of the storm and blackouts, I decided to book a hotel for Friday night.  But I was hopeful, as the total number of customers lacking power had gone from over 224,000 without power at 8:00am to 160,000 by 4:00pm.  After work and before heading to the hotel, Dan & I spent about an hour cleaning up the yard.  Fortunately, there was no damage to the house – including to our new storm windows.  A few days before, a major rainstorm confirmed that our street’s newly refurbished water runoff inlets were functioning well, with none of the flooding on our street we’d become accustomed to after even small rainfalls. 

After awakening in our hotel room Saturday morning, Dan & I headed back home to see power was not restored, largely as I expected given that I was following the outages listed on First Energy’s website.  I took advantage of the relative quiet on our street to make some piano recordings – fortunately, my old Mason & Hamlin upright does not require electricity.  

Piano by candlelight

We spent the rest of the weekend seeking out places to go where we could pass the time in relative comfort: walking in some parks, dining at restaurants, seeing a film – while periodically checking to see if power was restored.  While driving around, we saw the damage in Midtown.

Damage at the Dunham Tavern Museum

  

I also perused social media, posting information where useful, and observing posts and comments from various people.  A long-held belief of mine was confirmed: An appallingly high percentage of people have no idea how the world around them works.  I saw posts blaming the mayor of my municipality and those of other municipalities for everything from the time they were without power to the presence of flooding.  In our area, the Northeast Ohio Regional Sewer District is responsible for maintaining the sewers; if your street floods, contact them.  If your local creek floods, well, that’s what creeks do when it rains, and if you made the decision to live next to a creek, that’s on you.  If your power hasn’t been restored yet, the mayor has no control over that.  For what it’s worth, I will comment that the South Euclid services department was at work clearing branches as soon as the weather had cleared; further, the city advised that people could come to city hall if they needed to charge their devices.   

I have no complaints about the line workers from First Energy who worked long hours to get power back online – to say nothing of the many workers who came from outside of Ohio to help.  They worked their butts off.  The problem, as it often is, stems with poor management, from the CEO on down – which puts profit over providing a service which people rely on.  They did not prepare, and their communications were poor.  For example, I signed up to their automated system so I could be informed when my power was restored.  Within a few hours, I received multiple communications giving conflicting information.  First, I received a text that power would be restored by 2:00pm Monday; a half hour later, another text stated the power would be restored by 8:00pm Wednesday – followed by an automated phone call stating the same; 40 minutes later a further text stated that power would be restored by 4:00pm Monday, followed by another text 20 minutes later that power had been restored.  It had been out for 86 hours.

Make up your mind.

Here are some lessons learned from the past week’s experience:

Northeast Ohio’s tree canopy needs to be better managed, especially in more densely populated communities.  Our tree canopy is a wonderful thing – relatives and friends who have moved out of state have told me how much they miss it.  The two oak trees on my property, which I spend plenty of money to keep trimmed, provide enough shade to keep my electric bills at a reasonable level.  But in communities such as South Euclid, trees should not be permitted to grow without a plan for management – especially those trees which are near homes or power structures.  The repair of our localized loss of power was delayed because a large tree fell onto an unoccupied house, taking down several power lines and a transformer with it.  

Tree damage at a nearby house

The other item is something I’ve believed for years: The United States should embark on program to upgrade, modernize, and protect our energy grid from hazards including weather events and hacking.  Wherever possible, utility lines should be moved underground.  A colleague of mine did not lose power, largely because her community is newer and their power lines are underground.  Those of us who live in older communities, and who pay the same for electricity, should enjoy the same reliability.  The nationwide migration of utilities underground would be a massive undertaking, but no more than the building of the Interstate Highway system or the infrastructure created during the New Deal.  It would require cooperative efforts from Federal, State, and Local governments along with utility providers.  The biggest obstacle is the lack of leadership in both parties to lower the hammer and make it happen – because an effort of this magnitude would require at least partial public funding, which would require a tax increase on the wealthy.  So, a project such as this, which would have the added benefit of greatly improving aesthetics in our neighborhoods and commercial districts, will likely not happen in my lifetime. 

As I said in the email to my young relative: Our climate is changing.  We’re not going to be able to conserve our way out of the climate crisis.  We need to be prepared.