Where Were You When the Lights Went Out?

Doris Day in her penultimate film (1968 MGM) 

The first big blackout in the northeast that I can remember occurred on November 9, 1965. It was a Tuesday. I was thrilled because school had been cancelled, but as a fourth grader I also felt the spookiness of an extended Halloween. On that historic day, when 25 million people in seven states across 80,000 square miles were left without power, my dad was working in Brooklyn, New York, and a part of my soul was old enough to realize that no lights in New York City could be dangerous. The good news of the 1965 blackout was that it occurred before that dark summer of 1977 when the serial killer Son of Sam terrified the city, and the lights went out again. The happy days of the 1950’s were still lingering on our minds in '65, and I don’t remember any looting on that November day, but that would come later on July 13, 1977. In ’65, lots of people were stuck on subway trains, and on elevators. And children were deprived of their favorite TV shows, like Batman, Bonanza, I Dream of Jeannie, and Bewitched (I’m still trying to wiggle my nose like Samantha Stevens, a.k.a. Elizabeth Montgomery), but I don’t remember violent behavior unless you count the curse words. We were in the middle of a crisis, but there was a silver lining. All those millions of people who were left without power were forced to talk to each other wherever they happened to be: at the bus stop, the office, the store, the hospital, the station, or at home. Conversation was the only game in town! Suddenly, when the power went out, people started paying attention to other people, and their observations inspired art! Three years later a major motion picture, Where Were You When the Lights Went Out?, starring Doris Day, was released. The theme song was an instant hit, and I found myself humming that tune a lot last week when the lights went out all over Maine.

On Monday, October 30, 2017, in the wee small hours of the morning, a wicked wind storm that some meteorologist would call a “bomb cycle” blew down trees up and down the coast of New England causing half a million Mainers to lose their power. But I wasn’t at home in Bath. I was in Connecticut with my granddaughter, who had been practicing how to say “Boo” for a week so she could be a friendly ghost and go trick-or-treating. Even though she is only twenty-months old, I was hoping she would remember this Halloween, and I wanted to be with her. And then at three o’clock in the morning, I heard a fierce wind. When I went downstairs to comfort my dog, I spied a gigantic tree sprawled across the yard next to my car. (That’s better than on the car!) Since there was nothing I could do to help the tree, Penny and I went back upstairs. At sunrise, the texts from friends and neighbors started arriving. The lights had gone out in Bath. Our house was still standing, but a huge tree behind our neighbor's house had fallen and had flattened their fence and deck. Looking for the bright side, our neighbor texted that their view of the Kennebec had improved. At that moment I began to feel guilty because I should have been in Bath helping my neighbors; instead, I was enjoying a pumpkin muffin with Stella.

A Connecticut fife and drum corps on Halloween

There were lots of school closings in Connecticut, but my son’s neighborhood still had power. I kept checking the CMP Website and Facebook for news about Maine. And the news was grim. My friends in Bath told me to stay put and enjoy the holiday with lights, but I do guilt better than any other feeling! Of course, my granddaughter knew how to distract me. She insisted on going to the Halloween parade in a nearby town. We followed a local fife and drum corps down Main Street and marveled at the costumes and lights. Now I was feeling more like a wimp than a Mainer! After collecting candy and drinking apple cider, I returned to Stella’s house and texted my neighbors that I would be returning to Bath on Wednesday, power or not, and hoped they could charge their phones!

One of the many trees that fell in Maine!

On our five-hour drive home, I checked my phone for messages whenever I was in the co-pilot seat. Facebook was filled with good reports about people helping people. While everyone may not be a fan of Facebook, social media can be a lifesaver in times of trouble! Posts on Living in Bath, and posts by the staff of Coastal Journal shed light on a difficult situation. Their posts were clear and helpful at a time when most Mainers were looking for information. And many posts by Facebook friends were simply uplifting, and some of them were even funny. Laughter really is a powerful tool against despair!

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, let me share some observations about how Bath behaved when the lights went out:

1. The Bath Area Y and the Landing Y opened their facilities to everyone for hot showers and charging stations.

2. People with generators opened their homes to neighbors as a warming place.

3. Friends recommended good generators to buy for the future.

4. Charlene, the owner of Run with Soup, donated a vat of hot, black bean soup to Bath Housing to offer their residents.

Arctic Fox photo by John Pertel

5. A lucky Bathite, John Pertel, out of town on business when the lights went out, posted amazing photographs of an arctic fox in Manitoba, Canada, and described how a polar bear threatened his company’s substation, which is working to bring abundant hydropower (electricity!) to the states. It was an entertaining post!
6. Friends spread the word that battery operated head lamps come in handy during a power outage.

7. Reporters posted photos of all the power trucks from Indiana and New York that had arrived to help.

8. A fleet of Halloween orange, Asplundh tree service trucks also came to help. 

9. Brackett’s kept their shelves stocked, their lights on, and their parking lot available for all those trucks!

10. Local fire houses and town halls offered their hot showers to residents without power.

11. Local stores, restaurants and coffee shops with power on Front Street offered hot beverages, charging stations, and a place to sit.

12. On Thursday morning, my friend, Joanne, texted me that she was really having fun cooking all that moose meat that had defrosted over the last four days! And I laughed out loud!  

13. The Bath P.D. moved trick-or-treating to Friday night, and lots of kids and parents came out with awesome costumes (I especially liked the little mummy – all that toilet paper!)

I am deliberately choosing to end my list with item number 13 because I don’t believe it’s an unlucky number. How one survives a setback or a crisis has nothing to do with luck; it has everything to do with your outlook. On July 13, 1977, during a summer heatwave, the lights went out in New York City at dusk after most business owners had gone home. Before power was restored, thirty-five blocks of Broadway were destroyed because of arson and looting, fifty new Pontiacs were stolen from a car dealership in the Bronx, over 500 policemen were injured, and a few soon-to-be-famous street rappers broke into electronic stores and stole equipment that helped them launch their careers. It was the summer of the Son of Sam killings, and New York was in the throws of an economic downturn. It was the worst of times! Under darkness, angry people expressed their rage. I was twenty years old, and I decided to be hopeful, and that has made all the difference. When the lights went out in Bath, my friends and neighbors reminded me how we make our luck. When the lights go out, just wait, they’ll come on again. Yes, they will.

As fate and Bath would have it, my husband and I arrived home at 6:40 p.m. on Wednesday.  Later, our neighbors told us that power had been restored on Washington Street at 6:30 that evening. We had officially missed the blackout of 2017 by ten minutes!