The Morning I Was Smuggled to Work

Starting last night, just after dinner, a powerline tipped over.

The lights flickered and outside the windows a firework display intermittently began.

At first that is exactly what it sounded like. Behind the closed curtains it even looked like fireworks.

When I pulled on the heavy light blocking cloth it was a much brighter display of sparks. Quite different from the powder powered kind.

Winds whipped too tight wires into tree branches and embers rained down.

My children grew anxious. Mom was not home yet and dad said the phase fire hazard.
Obviously hyperbole but to them the World was threatened.

We turned down the unnecessary electricity and went down for the evening.

They did not sleep well, as a crackling and a pop continued now and then.

Around 3 or 4 AM, items plugged into the wall began to beep, alerting that they were low on battery.

The house was pitch black. Fans and music ceased.

By 6 AM there was still no power and my wife headed to the road.

The line was still down and wires were everywhere.

What about school, the bus, the cake pops for the birthday?

It ended up as a snow day, the same date as six years ago when the Covid lockdowns happened.

I still went to work, which led to the most exciting morning before work in some time.

Simple but special.

As I mentioned, my wife had not yet returned home when the line went down.

The fire department let her leave her car in the parking lot of the local hardware and feed store at the bottom of our road.

She then had to hug the houses, walking through the neighborhood to avoid the live wires.

So, I had a vehicle outside the containment zone, so I could go to work.

Surely they would let me pass the same way she did.

Grabbing my things, I set off down the road where I heard voices exchanging commands.

An older gentleman and his beautiful dog Sadie were talking with emergency personnel blocking the road.

He stood in his driveway staring at me.

I made a verbal cue to say hello in some fashion.

He responded that they would not let me pass. I explained my intent. He shook his head no.

He asked where I was headed. I said the old Agway, my wife’s car was parked there, and I intended to take it to work.

He said follow me. Without question I did.

Between his house and his neighbor’s lay a clearing.

As I stepped in, I realized it was a gorgeous pathway, mowed low like a golf course.

The entire thing was nicer than my yard.

There were no roots, sticks, or stones in the way as he led us down the bends and curves.

He told me to go ahead of him as Sadie kept circling back to say hi again.

As we walked he told me he mowed the path for them to walk on.

As we crossed an invisible boundary he mentioned whose land we were now walking on and how they let him and Sadie use it.

As I got near the fire hall he told me to use it again if needed when I came back.

He then went to the other side of the barricade to continue the conversation that had been cut off by the command to step away.

It truly was a smile worthy moment.

One where you know why respect for our elders is not only good, but right and of the highest order.