A few days ago, a wind storm blew into New England and immediately, I was transported back to my days of living in Nebraska and my Boy Scout training. I mean, I knew it was a Monday, so I should have known better. I should have been prepared, and I was anything but!
I actually knew that the power was out when I went to bed Sunday night. I knew that I borrowed my husband's special "Goal Zero" battery operated torch to charge my cell phone, so when it was time to wake up and the lantern was dead, I knew I had to leap into action. I used what little cell phone flashlight that remained to make my way to my car. I plugged the depleted torch into the charger, punched the car into reverse and sped my way out of the church parking lot. As I prepared to pull out on to Oenoke Ridge, I looked to my left and to my right, and I was surrounded on both sides by police blockades. Trees were lying across the road in both directions. The baffled police officer approached my car, and as I rolled down my window, she said, "Where did you come from?" Hmmmmmm.... I didn't want to touch this one on a Monday morning, but I needed supplies and I needed them now. Reluctantly, she removed the Crime Scene tape that sealed the area, and I eased my little Honda onto the sidewalk and down a side street I had never noticed before.
Once around the corner, I could see the filling station and Dunkin' Donuts. At the gas station, I fueled up the car and loaded bags of ice into the trunk. Next, I walked into the Dunkin Donuts, ordered breakfast and coffees (large) for me and my sweetie. As I was leaving, I called out to the DD barista, "Just so you know, the power is out." I will never forget the look of terror in her eyes as she screamed into the back, "POWER'S OUT!" Moments later, as I was backing away from the storefront, five cars were making their way down Elm Street and eased into the spaces out front. I was exiting just in time.
With the lantern fully charged now, I raced back to the parsonage. I crisscrossed my way through the town, nodded at the patient officer who watched me drive by via the sidewalk again and arrived back at the house. Immediately, I stuffed the bags of ice into the fridge/freezer and began to make a fire in the fireplace. The glow of the roaring blaze warmed my fingers and toes. In my mind, I was no longer in Connecticut; I was transported back in time to all of those Boy Scout campfires in Nebraska. There is something very primitive and satisfying about being out in the wilderness, whether it is in the Midwest or New Canaan, Connecticut, solving problems on the fly and lighting a fire in the darkness to light the way for others. I snuck back into the bedroom and placed the lantern next to the bed. When he awoke for the day, it would be there at the ready. Then I walked back out into the storm and headed to school.
