Toronto the dark
Aug. 15th, 2003 10:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
listersgirlThat...was somewhat freaky.
I was at work when the power went out. At first, during the complete blackness before the emergency lights came on, we thought it was just the library. Then we looked out into the atrium and saw all the lights on the main floor were out as well. People were leaning over the railings on every floor, wondering what was happening, but mostly just laughing and joking, assuming the power would be back very soon. One of my co-workers wandered through the mazes and found a window, where she saw that Metro Centre was black as well. Someone ran up to the third floor news rooms to find out what happened, someone else phoned home, another person phoned a friend at Bell ExpressVu, and we started to realize the magnitude of what was going on. All of Toronto. Across Ontario. Major cities including Ottawa, New York, Washington. The whole Eastern Seaboard. As far west as Ohio. One person even heard the whole continent was affected, which obviously wasn't true, but the scope was staggering.
It's interesting how easy it is to focus on the immediate, and not really see the big picture. The first thing that I thought when the power went out was that my VCR was going to lose time, and wouldn't tape The Amazing Race while I was at my rehearsal. We spent the next hour or so at work wandering around, basically just waiting for the power to come back. I think we all assumed this was temporary, but there's absolutely nothing that we could do without power - we couldn't even shelve CDs, because the stacks were in the dark. Most of the time was passed trying to find John's glasses so that he could get home. He'd put them down in his office just before the power disappeared, and now he couldn't find them in the dark (we eventually found them dangling from the phone cord - they'd gotten tangled up when he answered the phone just after we lost power, and were just hanging there). Eventually, security announced that all non-essential personnel should leave the building, and people started drifting off, comparing complaints of how long it was going to take them to walk home.
Outside, it looked, at first, like a normal rush hour in the summer. But of course it wasn't. There were no traffic lights, and at each intersection people were directing traffic - cops, transit drivers, city workers, often even just random people who happened to be around and stepped in to help. Streetcars were stopped wherever they'd happened to be when they lost power, which made for some very difficult traffic patterns. And of course there were people walking everywhere. A suprising number of places were still open, even without power - bars and restaurants, most of the stores along Spadina, and especially corner stores, which were doing crazy business in water, ice cream and anything cold. Because, of course, we're having the hottest weather of the summer, and people were suffering.
It took me nearly two hours to walk home. It was actually an enjoyable walk, other than the heat and all the bags that I was carrying. I walked along streets that I never see because the streetcar doesn't go there. I saw people being helpful - jumping in to control traffic, stopping at bus stops (if they were driving) to see if anyone was going in their direction and needed a ride. And everywhere I went, people were hanging around, living their lives outside. The whole time I was walking home I kept assuming I'd see the power go on any minute. When I finally did get home, and the power was still out, I felt lost, like I should be doing something big, but I couldn't think what it was. Instead, I took a shower and went outside with a book, where it was a little cooler. When it got too dark to read, and the power still wasn't on, I went back inside and lit candles so I could read, until the heat from the candles combined with the heat in my apartment was too much.
In the darkness, from my fourth floor apartment, Toronto looked like a completely different city. The only light was found in car headlights, which made sweeping patterns through my window. Through the open bathroom window the only sound I could hear was crickets, something which reminded me of summer vacations on rural Saltspring Island, and which I never thought I'd hear in the city. The silence in my apartment was disconcerting - no stereo, no TV, no refrigerator, no fans, no sound of the air conditioning at the bank next door. Nothing but the faint hint of news coming from a car stereo in the alleyway. Of course, with no fans the air was stifling, and I couldn't really sleep, but I lay there with wet washcloths and tried not to think about what would happen if the power was still out tomorrow. I had very little food that didn't need cooking, and no cash. Would I be able to buy groceries? Would anything be open? How would I survive the heat of the day in my apartment?
I'm one of the lucky ones. My power came back on just before 5 this morning. But as I write this, over 50% of Toronto is still without power, and they're saying that it will probably take all weekend until we have enough power to completely eliminate the blackouts. People are being asked to stay home, and to conserve power and water. The subway isn't running, and there are still areas where the stoplights are out. I'm not at work - even though we're broadcasting as usual, the building is running on emergency backup generators, so the library is just being staffed by one person in case there are last minute needs. After I found out that I didn't have to go into work this morning, I walked down to the beach and sat there reading my book, watching the joggers go by, feeling thankful that I was okay. I wasn't trapped in the subway. I was able to get home, and into my apartment. And when I came back home this morning, I could turn on my fan and be, if not cool and comfortable, at least able to breathe.
I was at work when the power went out. At first, during the complete blackness before the emergency lights came on, we thought it was just the library. Then we looked out into the atrium and saw all the lights on the main floor were out as well. People were leaning over the railings on every floor, wondering what was happening, but mostly just laughing and joking, assuming the power would be back very soon. One of my co-workers wandered through the mazes and found a window, where she saw that Metro Centre was black as well. Someone ran up to the third floor news rooms to find out what happened, someone else phoned home, another person phoned a friend at Bell ExpressVu, and we started to realize the magnitude of what was going on. All of Toronto. Across Ontario. Major cities including Ottawa, New York, Washington. The whole Eastern Seaboard. As far west as Ohio. One person even heard the whole continent was affected, which obviously wasn't true, but the scope was staggering.
It's interesting how easy it is to focus on the immediate, and not really see the big picture. The first thing that I thought when the power went out was that my VCR was going to lose time, and wouldn't tape The Amazing Race while I was at my rehearsal. We spent the next hour or so at work wandering around, basically just waiting for the power to come back. I think we all assumed this was temporary, but there's absolutely nothing that we could do without power - we couldn't even shelve CDs, because the stacks were in the dark. Most of the time was passed trying to find John's glasses so that he could get home. He'd put them down in his office just before the power disappeared, and now he couldn't find them in the dark (we eventually found them dangling from the phone cord - they'd gotten tangled up when he answered the phone just after we lost power, and were just hanging there). Eventually, security announced that all non-essential personnel should leave the building, and people started drifting off, comparing complaints of how long it was going to take them to walk home.
Outside, it looked, at first, like a normal rush hour in the summer. But of course it wasn't. There were no traffic lights, and at each intersection people were directing traffic - cops, transit drivers, city workers, often even just random people who happened to be around and stepped in to help. Streetcars were stopped wherever they'd happened to be when they lost power, which made for some very difficult traffic patterns. And of course there were people walking everywhere. A suprising number of places were still open, even without power - bars and restaurants, most of the stores along Spadina, and especially corner stores, which were doing crazy business in water, ice cream and anything cold. Because, of course, we're having the hottest weather of the summer, and people were suffering.
It took me nearly two hours to walk home. It was actually an enjoyable walk, other than the heat and all the bags that I was carrying. I walked along streets that I never see because the streetcar doesn't go there. I saw people being helpful - jumping in to control traffic, stopping at bus stops (if they were driving) to see if anyone was going in their direction and needed a ride. And everywhere I went, people were hanging around, living their lives outside. The whole time I was walking home I kept assuming I'd see the power go on any minute. When I finally did get home, and the power was still out, I felt lost, like I should be doing something big, but I couldn't think what it was. Instead, I took a shower and went outside with a book, where it was a little cooler. When it got too dark to read, and the power still wasn't on, I went back inside and lit candles so I could read, until the heat from the candles combined with the heat in my apartment was too much.
In the darkness, from my fourth floor apartment, Toronto looked like a completely different city. The only light was found in car headlights, which made sweeping patterns through my window. Through the open bathroom window the only sound I could hear was crickets, something which reminded me of summer vacations on rural Saltspring Island, and which I never thought I'd hear in the city. The silence in my apartment was disconcerting - no stereo, no TV, no refrigerator, no fans, no sound of the air conditioning at the bank next door. Nothing but the faint hint of news coming from a car stereo in the alleyway. Of course, with no fans the air was stifling, and I couldn't really sleep, but I lay there with wet washcloths and tried not to think about what would happen if the power was still out tomorrow. I had very little food that didn't need cooking, and no cash. Would I be able to buy groceries? Would anything be open? How would I survive the heat of the day in my apartment?
I'm one of the lucky ones. My power came back on just before 5 this morning. But as I write this, over 50% of Toronto is still without power, and they're saying that it will probably take all weekend until we have enough power to completely eliminate the blackouts. People are being asked to stay home, and to conserve power and water. The subway isn't running, and there are still areas where the stoplights are out. I'm not at work - even though we're broadcasting as usual, the building is running on emergency backup generators, so the library is just being staffed by one person in case there are last minute needs. After I found out that I didn't have to go into work this morning, I walked down to the beach and sat there reading my book, watching the joggers go by, feeling thankful that I was okay. I wasn't trapped in the subway. I was able to get home, and into my apartment. And when I came back home this morning, I could turn on my fan and be, if not cool and comfortable, at least able to breathe.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-16 09:28 pm (UTC)