This year, (2022), homes across Columbus and Ohio were hit with a days long power outage. While my home was spared, I have many friends who spent the hottest days of the summer without air or lights. It reminded me of a piece I wrote ten years ago for the Columbus Dispatch when our house was one of the unlucky ones. Is this going to happen every 10 years?
Like every year before it, 2012 will be recalled for many things by many people.
My daughter will remember it as the year she started kindergarten.
For my son, it will stand out as the year he was finally old enough to play tackle football (although he has been tackling his younger sister for years).
My husband will undoubtedly savor it as the year that the Buckeyes went 12-0 but couldn’t play in a bowl game.
I will think of it as the year of “black Friday” — the night the lights went out (and stayed out) in Columbus.
On June 29, thousands of residents lost power - and suffered through the brutal heat for up to a week.
Though miserable at the time, you’re probably over the pain by now.
I’m not: Six months have passed, and I continue to struggle with power-outage anxiety (clinically known, I think, as POA).
Ever since those dark days, I tense up at the sound of a weather alert.
Anytime a storm blows through, I sit with my face pressed to the window.
Superstorm Sandy gave me horrible nightmares. I’m terrified we’ll lose our power again.
I barely survived the outage of 2012. With our electricity out for six full days — no lights, no television, no Internet, no air conditioning — I was in a terrible mood the entire week. (My husband will confirm as much.)
I tried to change my attitude.
I sat down (by candlelight) to list 10 positive things about the outage. The first three on my list:
-- Not receiving political phone calls, because the phone can’t ring.
-- Anticipating a lower July electric bill.
-- Fueling the economy by eating out most meals.
Even those positives, though, were cynical in tone.
Many people might think I’m spoiled. They’re right: Though not proud of it, I am an electricity addict.
I can’t be the only one who deals with such issues. Would anyone be interested in a support group?
I realized how soft I am when I stopped to check on a neighbor, Ann, who celebrated her 90th birthday this year and lives alone. I asked her how she was managing, and she told me she had set up a sleeping bag in the basement and just cooked a hot dog over a Sterno flame.
By the second day without power, I was stalking American Electric Power. Having programmed the outage hot line into my speed dial, I called at least a dozen times to report that our power was out. Whenever I saw an AEP truck, I trailed it to see where it was working.
On day five, I gave up keeping the food in coolers. Ice melts pretty fast when the room temperature hovers at 99 degrees. Then I cleaned up the multicolored Popsicles that had melted in the freezer.
Day six was my 43rd birthday — punishment enough.
With the power still out, I was abandoning all hope just as AEP trucks arrived in my neighborhood.
I went to greet the crew members, offering them warm cans of soft drinks (they declined).
They told me they were based in Los Angeles. They also told me about the wives and children they had left behind to come help us.
Once our power finally returned, I literally jumped for joy. (I think it frightened the kids).
Then I added the power crew to our Christmas-card list.
The holiday season has proved a wonderful distraction, as my wounds are slowly starting to heal.
With winter storms inevitably on the horizon, however, I must continue working on my electricity issues.
The first step, as always, is admitting I have a problem.
Andra Gillum, 43, lives in Upper Arlington.