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Sept. 30, 2004 For four consecutive mornings, I sipped coffee made in a percolator over a propane hotplate, equipment my fiancé Phil had recently purchased for us to take camping. But these mornings, we were not on some lovely lake in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains by a breathtaking waterfall. We were not hovering near a campfire under the sun and stars and roasting hotdogs and marshmallows. Instead, we lit the oil lamps and candles and played nickel- and-dime poker without background music or television news Welcome to the aftermath of Hurricane Ivan after it devastated the Florida Panhandle and swept through the Deep South. Soon after Hurricane Frances knocked over trees and blew shingles from houses, I drove from Georgia to check on my property just north of Tampa. Reaching my home, I found my residence was one of more than 3-million in the state without power. My family had set up an old generator on the back patio and had the television, fans, and icebox running. As well, water caught from the roof drain made toilet flushing possible. Living in the country out of view of any neighbors—except that of the gopher tortoise and birds—has an advantage. I walked through my family room and through the sliding glass windows, I caught a glimpse of my daughter on the back patio. A big bar of Ivory soap in her hand, her body quickly disappeared into the rain barrel. I lived for nearly a week in swimsuits. Thus, during rains, I stood under the roof spout to cool off. The storm already gone on these muggy- hot days had left the clouds silent and free of lightening. Without the ceiling fan coming on with the flick of a switch in my bedroom, I left my sliding glass doors open to my private porch. I honestly believe Hurricane Frances blew the September bug residents away. And my dog Blacky, sleeping on the carpet next to my bed, would ward off any intruders such as snakes, fox, raccoons or opossums that roam the Florida inlands. For days, we cooked outside on an old wood- burning grill and rinsed the dishes with rainwater and bleach, before stacking them on the cabinet to rewash later. All said and done, after a week of no power and no running water, it was like a magic wand swooped through the sky. Lights! Water! Air conditioner! The Internet! These wonderful luxuries we take for granted, buzzing and clanging, suddenly making wonderful music together. So all was well in the country. I said goodbye to my family, then stopped at the local convenience store to gas up. Some eleven-or-so hours later, Blacky and I were back in the quiet, peaceful, Flat Creek Community to spend the remainder of the summer. A few partly-sunny-and-scattered-showers days later—Boom! Hurricane Ivan had devastated parts of northwest Florida and moved on to the mountains of Georgia and North Carolina. It was like “Recollection Florida.” Power was gone with the winds that had swept through Georgia (forgive me Margaret Mitchell). Camping out inside Phil’s rustic log home did generate a lot of atmosphere, however—peace, quiet, and blackness all around. The fifth day without electricity, five Georgia Power vehicles parked near power poles at the Flat Creek Baptist Church and Community Center. “You will have power within fifteen minutes,” a worker said. This meant Phil would stop trucking water from the creek on the hillside. We wouldn’t have to barge in on family across town for showers, and we could use the Mr. Coffee and cook on the electric range. Be it Florida or Georgia, working without power for a writer is difficult. No computer means: no Internet, no email, no keyboard. But, by the light of oil lamps, Phil and I did brush up on our nickel and dime poker and we’re “ready, set, go” for Biloxi or Las Vegas, I guess. But I learned one thing for sure. Though the mountains are wonderful this time of year, my fiancé can put away the hot plate or go fishing with the guys. I’m a country gal at heart, but I love the conveniences of electronics. And I’m in no mind to camp. ------------ About the author Patricia Lieb: As well as being an award-winning newspaper reporter, I have written for various publishers including those of true crime magazines and books used in trade and high schools. I have authored a book of true crime titled "Murders In The Swampland" and a novel "Across the Red River to her Mysterious Heritage" available from Xlibris.com. I am putting together a Website at http://www.fl-freelance-writer.com and have a personal site at http://www.geocities.com/patsylieb. I love all types of reporting and writing and I thank you for reading my work. Email: patsylieb@yahoo.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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