The Day the Power Went Out

The day the power went out

Paris Kefalas

October 2, 2011

It started around 6pm in late august. It had been a very hot and humid day. I had just come home from work and was sitting at the dinner table with my kids Jaiden, Alexander, and my wife Carrie.

The power stopped.

Carrie and I thought that a breaker had tripped so I went into the laundry room and checked the breakers. Carrie began lighting candles and placing them strategically on the table to illuminate the vegetables and sides that had been made. I couldn’t get over the silence.

There was no drone of dueling air conditioning units, no all-encompassing plasma and lcd televisions bleeding into every house in the neighborhood, and the constant hum of electricity was gone.

I was grilling pork ribs so I went to the porch area to check on their progress.  I first noticed that I heard children outside playing, even though the temperature was in the 90’s. This was rare indeed as the videogames and television and everything else that occupies kids was absent. They were forced to come outside from the boredom and socialize and use their imagination. I was surprised to see adults coming out of their sanctuaries into the street as if the ends of time were near. It was quite comical that everyone was asking each other if their power was out-not even taking into account that was the reason everyone WAS outside. People sometimes say stupid things when they are forced to socialize with others that they are not comfortable with.  It had been so easy all these years to stay inside with that big TV and your family.

The silence brought out dragonflies around my garden. It started with one, then three, then at least 20 dive bombing the bugs and gnats that had always taken refuge in the tomato plants and peppers. I had never seen dragonflies until the air conditioner stopped, and now I had them buzzing around like kamakazi fighters to get their meals hidden in the garden. I began to hear their fluttering lacy wings around my head. By this time my wife and kids were staring at me through the glass and they began to see why I was so intrigued. I shook the plants in the garden to startle the insects out into the attack of the dragonflies. I pulled on tree branches, kicked at the grass; I was the piper and the dragonflies followed me everywhere I went. It was no coincidence that they were making their meals out of the beautiful silence.

We had one of the best dinners of all time that night. It was, by no means, the most tasty dinner-the ribs were overcooked because I was too busy feeding the dragonflies! But it was one of the best dinners because it was quiet, and there was candle light, and the distractions that are always there when the power is available were not there.  And that hum, the one you hardly ever notice, was silent.

Jaiden, inspired by the peace, initiated the quiet game. This was more of a QuietGame version 2.0, not like the game parents tried to get their kids to play on long trips. The object was still to remain quiet, but you were able to speak after putting your fist into your palm. No more than one person could talk at a time and if you talked or laughed without the fist you lost. By the time the game was over an hour had passed and the dragonflies had gone. It was hot in the house from the late summer sun but it had been worth every minute. At 10:06Pm the lights fired back on and the drone of the air conditioners commenced.

I haven’t seen the dragonflies since that day.