School was dismissed early. After a short school day of 23 minute long class periods, we headed home to avoid the incoming “arctic blast.” The early release is effective; while the snow doesn’t hit until the next day, the cold sets in quickly and the wind picks up to speeds higher than 30 miles per hour. With that, the population of Portland holds a collective breath through a cold weekend with no sports, five agonizingly long missed work days and one more chilly and boring weekend. Finally, just in time for finals, we came back to school. Looking back, what was it like being trapped at home? And what even happened during the snow week?
The extent of how people in Portland were impacted by the snow week was a wide range. From a little wind chill and flickering lights to over 72 hours of no power, people were affected in all sorts of ways by the snow, wind and ice that settled heavily on the outdoors. There were significant differences in how people were holding up between next door neighbors and people in entirely different neighborhoods.
Just a few blocks away from 82nd and the school, my family members and myself were holed up inside our house. Our house is old and drafty—even with power, the chill snuck inside through the windows, the door frames and the cracks and corners. It was dark, the blankets that covered the windows and doors stealing away the natural light from outside with the exception of one window that was taped over with trash bags instead, so that we might have some concept of time and a source of light if the power went out.
And it did go out. We lost power twice, both times for about five to seven hours. The first time was during the afternoon, so while it was cold, we were still active inside the house which did provide some more warmth. The second time, however, occurred shortly after dinner, where the lights had been flickering ominously nearly the entire time we were trying to finish our food. It interrupted the movie I was watching with my parents and a few of my sisters—The Marvels—and instead of coming back after a minute or two as it had for all of the evening, we were consumed in darkness until two in the morning.
We were some of the more lucky people during snow week. For one, we only lost power twice, and that was for brief periods of time. We also didn’t have any water or heating issues outside of the power outages, so we were consistently as comfortable as we could be. Secondly, we could all stand each other. When the power went out, we made sure that everyone was safe, and gathered together to share body heat and bond over embarrassing stories told by candlelight. The cabin fever was hard, but we pulled through, luckily.
Other people weren’t as lucky. I was horrified to hear news from my friends and sisters over the week about how this or that person hasn’t had power for over 48 hours, that this neighbor’s heating stopped working even though they had power, that this friend’s pipes had burst and they were without water. Once we were back in school, the stories didn’t stop there. I heard of people making treks across neighborhoods to borrow water from friends even as the roads were covered in over an inch of ice, stories of a whole section of power lines coming down onto the street below.
What happened was scary. And getting through the week of snow and ice was far from easy, but we pulled through. Though it’s been difficult, being able to connect with others through the stories and experiences of the snow week has been something special. I’m grateful that I got through it with the people I care about, and I’m glad that even though the winter storm obstructed things like school and sports, it provided an opportunity to create and strengthen bonds with people that are important to me. Recovering from the week of ice is an ongoing process, but I’m hopeful for how it will continue to bring people together and create a closer community.
