Wake Up Call!
Oysterville was without power for a little over thirteen hours yesterday. I’m not sure about the rest of the Peninsula. Though we’ve pieced together a part of the story, I’ve not heard many corroborating details yet. I did learn, though, that our ever-present Oyster Shell Telegraph doesn’t always cover the entire Peninsula. I’ve always thought it a pretty reliable communication method, but yesterday it showed itself as having at least one black-out pocket of its own.
When the lights went out, I was at the Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum, just sitting down to lunch at the final Community Historian session. No worries. There was plenty of light coming in from the windows in the small meeting room and we didn’t linger long enough to notice the creeping cold.
Near 227th on the way home, cones blocked our side of Sandridge suggesting a detour. Up ahead we could see flashing red lights and figured there had been an accident that had compromised a power pole. We detoured up to U Street and cut back to Sandridge on Bay, all the while noticing that there were no lights along the way. Everyone looked to be out of power so we were not surprised to find Oysterville dark.
I decided to catch up on some telephone calls and the first person I talked to happened to be Cate Gabel who was out walking her dog. She had just seen a Medix helicopter land in a field in Ocean Park to life flight an accident victim and, ever the reporter, had asked about the situation. No details. Just hope expressed that the patient would make it.
As the house began to get cold, we took the car, cranked up the heat and went on some errands. No power at the bank; just the drive-up window. One bill of our cash deposit immediately blew out of the drawer and was carried off in the wind. The teller rushed out to the rescue and found the twenty-dollar bill in the field to the west. “Second time today!” she said cheerfully. We were also told by another bank employee that the accident involved a fatality.
On to the library across town. Power on. Then down the highway to North Long Beach to get chicken feed. Power there, too. “No, it wasn’t an accident; they’re just replacing power poles on the back road,” we were told. Hmmm. We went home, took a nap under our down comforter and then went out for dinner. Every restaurant we passed had parking lots full of cars. Usual for a Wednesday night in April? Not sure. We thought it probably was because of the outage.
At the Roo we visited with our next-table-neighbors – friends we haven’t seen for a long time. “If there’s power by tomorrow night, come over for dessert,” they said. So… when the lights came on in the middle of the night, I woke up thinking “Oh boy! Dessert!” Pretty good wake up call, eh?