No Electricity, No Problem

Oh, to have all our U.S. communities go back to the days when we knew our neighbors.

After Hurricane Irma carved her damn path through Central Florida, we emerged from our homes to the morning light to survey the damage. The air was warm, the sky was tinged yellow, and there were trees down everywhere, big ones too. 

None of us had electricity, but we were ok. 

Everywhere people we had never seen before stepped out of their homes, walked the streets, and chatted with one another. We had a lot of work to do, but we were together. Later, I joined some neighbors over a home-made fire pit in their driveway, where we cooked our lunch. People walked by our houses and asked if we needed any help. Others just wanted to see if everyone was safe. 

There was the hum of life about the community and it was...so right.

By the late afternoon, I remained in the yard cutting up our holly tree that broke in half when one of our neighbors shouted—almost in slow motion—"Our power's back on!"

Many neighbors immediately disappeared from their yards and porches into the shelter of their soon-to-be-air-conditioned homes. I finished whatever piece of wood I was chopping up and headed inside to plug my phone in and check to see if anyone had texted me. 

When I walked back outside 15 minutes later, it was a ghost town. Only a couple neighbors remained and the deep quiet had been restored. 

I met intense sadness. 

We're all craving to deeply be known and to know people deeply, but so many things get in the way of that. A glimpse of life in regular commune with those living around showed itself to us and it, while sad at the damage, was completely beautiful. And with the flick of a switch, that community largely disappeared. 

A few days later, I visited a thrift store by my house and chatted with a woman named Diane, mid-50s, who reminisced on life decades ago: 

"We were more united before and now we're not close in the way we should be, (but again), I truly knew the meaning of 'love thy neighbor' when this hurricane hit."

That community is the way life is supposed to be. I certainly don't want anymore hurricanes to bring that about, but I want those deep connections for everyone. 

What do we have to do to make that happen?