Feature ArticleDecember 19, 2001
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A time to remember the ice storm
by Janis LantzA twelve-foot widow maker tried to take out the hydro line to my cottage during the mini ice storm last week. With all of the disasters we've experienced this fall, you would think a bit of freezing rain would be a cakewalk for those of us who lived through the Ice Storm of '98. Just the prediction of freezing rain can unnerve some people, and the silence of a storm that gently encases the earth in a layer of ice has terrified them ever since. Trees falling on roofs and branches crashing in the dead of night fill their dreams.
Stephen King couldn't have written a better horror than "The Storm of the Century". Sure, we joke about it now, show friends and family our pictures, and tell tales of survival; but for some, it is a false bravado. The following Christmas, when a book came out about the ice storm with pictures from various photo-journalists, it seemed rather macabre. It wasn't a surprise to find that the people who bought the book were not the ones who had lived through the storm. The problem was that a lot of the former bought the book for Christmas as presents for the latter.
During this current storm, Randy Granlund was the man of the hour as he went from one disaster to another. He hit Susan Wing's place Saturday morning and took down my widow maker with two passes of his pole saw. He said he would be back with a chipper when he could, as a woman had a tree on her roof, and he had to prioritize.
Randy then arrived at Judy Jackson's place to find a huge willow tree that had been split down the middle. Judy said she stood paralyzed as the tree came down on the roof just feet from her, on Friday morning. Randy spent the weekend working on that tree. Judy was finally looking forward to a decent night's sleep Tuesday, when most of the repairs to her roof and kitchen ceiling had been done.
Susan and I made piles of branches at Thompson's Circle, and counted our blessings. Friday afternoon, as I write this, Randy is still lost in action; however I know he's somewhere doing something more important than cleaning up our wee mess. After the Ice Storm of 98 he spent a week just chipping up the downed branches on top of the hill.
Despite the turmoil, the Santa Claus Parade went on without much of a hitch. Hot dogs and chocolate were much appreciated afterwards, as kids waited to sit on Santa's lap at the Oso Hall. Everywhere there were stories being told. People measured their situation against those whose were better or worse, and felt happy just to be safe. Our problems are minute compared to September 11, where the choice was to jump or burn, but another ice storm, however minor, still has the power to traumatize already frayed nerves.
