Calm after the storm
As I entered the neighborhood on a rainy, gloomy Thursday evening in late May, a plethora of tree limbs, leaves and branches met my wet, well-worn tires. I encountered more debris as a power truck passed me by on the other side of the road. The crunching sound of my automobile smashing twigs and pine cones mixed with the rain made my heart pound a bit. After I was away at my daughter’s gymnastics class for just one hour, I quickly discovered that a massive rainstorm plowed through the area. “This couldn’t be good,” I thought to myself. When I came upon the road leading into my subdivision, there was a fire truck blocking its entrance. A tree had fallen on the one line that feeds power to the subdivision in which I live. I know this drill all too well. I’ve been living in this house for 17 years and in the state for 22 years respectively. Once something like this hits, it takes the dedicated workers at the power company several hours to restore electricity. Believe me; I have worked c...