I have learned several times now what life is like when the electrical grid goes

down during ice storms here in Kentucky. What we consider "civilization" basica
lly stops, and if the roads are blocked by fallen trees, then it becomes just li
ke the Dark Ages.
Priorities shift quickly. A fire is the first priority, followed by a supply tra
il from the woodpile to the house. At night, candles and solar lights are lit.
When the gaslines stop, the fireplace doubles as a cooking area, and nearly all
activity occurs around the fireplace. The rest of the house sinks into a deep fr
eeze, and remains so all winter without additional fireplaces.
Individual bedrooms become impractical, as freezing to death is not a practical
option. Beds are shared by an entire family -- including the dog.
Having survived several of these weeklong events, I know what to expect and what
I will need, but I still wonder what I will do about the unheated rooms. I rece
ntly saw a military style pipestove that can be folded up into a box. It could b
e used as a heater in a room after cutting a hole in the ceiling to vent the smo
ke from the tall, stackable pipe chimney.
None of my neighbors made any attempt to scale down to survive the ice storms. T
hey all ran for their cars, or called paramedics. One of my neighbors used the e
xhaust from her car engine to heat her home through a window. I watched in stunn
ed amazement.
The last ice storm blew the entire city budget, and many areas could not be reco
nnected. People froze. I cannot see too many more all-out efforts to restore the
power until there is just nothing left to do it with.
When the inside of your home is 35 degrees, you cannot survive without a fire, t
hermal clothing, and some food and water for very long. My wife finally understa
nds this, so she tolerates my hoarding.
FRIDAY, JUNE 8, 2012 1:30:00 AM EDT