Around Alaska's Mat-Su Valley with Pam Holen
December 7, 2007
Life has been dictated by weather the past few weeks. Our younger son and his family live in Astoria, Oregon – hard hit by the storm earlier this week. He called us on Monday morning to let us know they are okay although the “Category 3 Hurricane” was still raging. He was out in the storm, helping other local business owners replace broken windows with plywood. I wouldn’t hear from him again for 36 hours.
As I tried to call over and over again, it became deja vue. When our eldest son graduated from high school, he traveled to Cordova, Argentina as an exchange student. The glamorous life he had envisioned did not appear, so he decided to wander down to Tierra del Fuego without giving anyone the opportunity to say no. It was during the beginning stages of Desert Storm and South America was quickly turning their backs on the U.S. The State Department suggested students come home but we couldn’t find our son. He called five days later – just short of his destination. It was a “good thing” I couldn’t reach him through the telephone wires.
Thoughts of helplessness during the Argentina incident lead to thoughts of helplessness during the Mali incident. Davin and Cara were newly wed and sent by the Peace Corps to Mali, West Africa. I read an article in the Anchorage Daily News one morning on a major bombing in the capitol city of Bamako and the ensuing angry African riots. Davin and Cara were supposed to be at the Peace Corps headquarters – in Bamako. It took four days to reach them and learn they were fine – just very careful where they ventured.
I don’t breathe when the kids are in danger even though they are capable adult. I was in tears when Chris finally got through to tell me Astoria was devastated by the high winds with no electricity and no roads in or out of town. He and two of his cooks cleaned out the two restaurants’ dark refrigerators and pantries, preparing a meal for the townsfolk at no cost. My grandbaby was fine – plenty of diapers.
We were in the middle of our own storm – high winds with a below zero chill factor. On Sunday, the family gathered at our house to celebrate our annual family holiday dinner and gift giving before we leave town. They reported white knuckle driving across the flats as wind gusts rocked their cars. It was bitter cold. They all left for Anchorage early, worried about the weather. The flickering lights went out within an hour and Jim located candles and flashlights in the dark. My hero then stood outside tinkering with the generator so we could have heat and I could watch Desperate Housewives. The lights came back on before bedtime but the wind gusted across the lake, sounding like a freight train. Every time it hit, the house shook. We spent the night in the bed and breakfast – much quieter.
Our house/dog sitter is arriving in one week. Dennis offered to travel from New York State to Alaska during the holidays to experience an Alaskan winter. He and Deb were our guests this past summer and wanted to return. They are the proud grandparents of a new baby boy so Deb decided she would stay come and let Dennis come play in the snow alone. Thus, we need snow. If you have a good snow dance, please start dancing.
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