Here in Queens we were also, obviously, caught in the blackout. I woke up from a nap wondering why the air conditioner went off only to get an anxious cellphone call from my mom wondering where I was. My husband was in Westchester for work but he made it home unscathed. We spent Thursday evening having an improptu pool party in my parent's pool with some of our friends and our collective friend: alcohol. It lasted until about 4am and was pure insanity but the best time we've all had in a while. In the sunlight the next morning the pile of empties was a little shocking. Cristen 17 Aug 2003 |
I live in one of the neighborhoods of Toronto that was last to be back on the grid. We finally got power at 9:15 on Saturday morning - 41 hours after it went out. We too enjoyed the walking in the streets, the impromptu friendships and drum circles. And also the backyard barbeques with way too much food - freezers that had been stockpiled were thawing. We brought ice to our friend who was pregnant past her delivery date. We slept in the basement because it was the only cool place in the house. Matt 17 Aug 2003 |
I live and work in midtown Manhattan, so I was fortunate enough to be able to walk home. I stayed at work, close to a dialup phone line, answering as many emails as I could on my laptop before the battery ran out. Across the street, in front of Grand Central Station, the curbs were lined with people just waiting patiently, staring up at a lone helicopter just hovering over the station, enjoying the fact that while something crazy was happening, it was at least happening to everyone at the same time. In Bryant Park at sundown, there was a bit of a cocktail-type party held in the creeping blackness. Someone came by in a truck and handed out hundreds of bottles of water. No one panicked, the whole night, not that I saw. It was quite lovely. The night was warm and clear, and lots of people were taking pictures of the darkened skyline. Times Square was like a waiting room. All the people locked out of the hotels were gaping at the absolute darkness in the side streets where the cabs and police vehicles weren't going; I heard so many excited snippets in a hundred accents talking about how strange it was to be actually enjoying sitting on the steps of the Broadway theaters singing songs by candlelight. We all were rehearsing our stories to tell to our grandkids. I slept in my midtown studio apartment like I was in a much smaller town. Waking up just before dawn, I went back out, and a lot of people were still out on the streets, stoic, waiting, huddled, patient. I took what felt like a million pictures of the sunrise and went home to read until the lights came back on around noon. Tony 17 Aug 2003 |
Thursday night as I crossed the Williamsburg Bridge I surveyed the crowds to decide who I would align myself with if the apocalypse were upon us. Who'd be the best leader, who'd be a good specimen to propagate the race, who'd be good bait for hunting. Most of them seemed to be, at best, potential automatons in my sugar caves. I also looked for potential love interests. Of course, I am a kept woman, but I considered: what if this were something more serious than a blackout, I thought? If I'm doomed to go out like this, I'd like to find one last good time in the shadows of concertina wire and concrete pylons. But no luck. My mother called to remind me of the blackout of '65 when she was working in the Empire State Building and had to walk down 50 flights of stairs in heels. My poor local liquor store proprietors slept in their car in front of their store that night. My local bar opened early Friday morning to serve up BBQ'd hotdogs and beer, God bless 'em. K and I had nothing to eat in the house on Thursday, so we dined on carrot sticks and peanutbutter by candlelight. On Friday we went to the bodega and bought shitty junk food to make up for it. My local deli man gave me two pieces of something called Luxury Fudge--"One for you, one for your boyfriend." Luxury Fudge. It sounds vaguely Orwellian. Then on Friday afternoon, the refrigerator clicked on inauspiciously. We frantically ground coffee and put beers in the freezer, assuming that the power would evaporate just as quickly as it materialized. But it hasn't so far. dana 17 Aug 2003 |
I had a moment of panic when I realized that the power was out not just in NYC but in Detroit and Toronto as well. I just bought a digital camera and the one day I did not bring it into the city with me something happens. I saw a lot of great photo ops on my way back to Brooklyn You can read about my long walk home on my website. Lorna 17 Aug 2003 |
When the lights went out my imagination went wild. I was sure it was terrorists, and we were all going to die. I was at my office in midtown, a few blocks from the Empire State Building. When I looked out the window and saw all the cars stopped in the street, I was sure it was going to be 9/11 all over again. I imagined huge power stations blown up and smoking, ticking bombs being left in Grand Central Station unnoticed, more planes flying into buildings - and to make it worse, all this was probably happening while we all milled around like lost sheep trying to get cell phone signals. I kept as calm and cool as I could in front of my co-workers, but inside my stomach was twisted into knots. I was frantic about whether or not my other half was stuck on the subway train, if my baby nephews were in a car screeching into a traffic-lightless intersection, or if I was ever going to see my Mom again. To cope I breathed, and I walked. It was a long and sweaty trek to Brooklyn. I saw Whoopi Goldberg on the way, and when I got home, my other half was fine and waiting for me - so was everyone in my family. That night I met neighbors on my block that I hadn't before, drawn out of our houses no longer insulated with isolating electronic devices, and I was reminded of how nice it is to sit outside with candles and listen to the radio. All in all, it just felt wonderful to be alive - even in the dark. The full story of my walk home is at http://scribbling.net/Never_a_dull_moment Gina 17 Aug 2003 |
