Peggy Dover

Sixteen hours. That’s how long thousands of us were without electricity. A herd of Tasmanian devil winds tore through the Rogue Valley Monday evening toppling trees, snapping branches and playing volleyball with trash cans.

While texting Lane in Talent, who had lost power, telling him I expected to lose mine at any moment — click! It was gone. At that point, optimism hovered near like a bosom chum, but I would soon seek solace in foreign places, but not Costco.

My friend Lynn suspected alien intrusion when I texted her asking, “Do you want to go to Walmart?” She confirmed suspicions and responded, “Yes!” We had lost power and the day’s heat crept in on little lizard feet. Ironically, the new AC unit sat idle, helpless to come to my aid. The first restoration estimate from Pacific Power was for 2:30 a.m. The clock said 6:47 p.m. It would be a long night after a long 103-degree day.

I picked Lynn up, and we headed toward Nick Young Road in Eagle Point only to discover the traffic lights out, the road closed, and a worker telling us of trees that had knocked out power lines. Later we discovered this scene was playing out on neighboring stages throughout the valley. We turned the corner to Wally World.

The Walmart parking lot sat uncharacteristically empty and the exiting blue-vested employees confirmed our suspicions — no power. I thought they were invincible. There would be no alien-watching or charging of phones. No mad attempt to find a cheap summer dress.

Runner-up seemed like Goodwill, since it would keep us close should our electricity return. Ha. Ha. They had closed for the day. There was nothing left but to crash in on Denise and Jerry in Medford. We did phone first so that they could chill some sparkling something or other to welcome a couple of distraught refugees across their stoop.

We talked, sipped and charged the phones in the cool comfort of their lovely, cool home while Boo Radley the dachshund entertained us with various embarrassing dog behaviors. For one thing, he makes like a nail gun when he sneezes. Poor little dude is so close to the ground that he rams his prominent nose into the floor at high velocity with each discharge. I guess it never occurs to him to lift his head. The first time Denise heard it, she wondered who was doing construction in the neighborhood. Not making it up. It created one of those awkward moments at someone’s home when you think maybe you shouldn’t laugh — I mean, it’s gotta hurt — but it’s impossible to keep a straight face at the same time. Yes, I’m somewhat ashamed.

Well, back home to a dark, quiet Aunt Sophie (house). I placed candles where Cricket and Eddie wouldn’t knock them over and tried to settle in. It’s amazing how much light one candle provides. The bedroom upstairs felt like I imagined a coffin — pitch black and hot, with no air movement, so I tried sacking out on the sofa. Let’s just say for lumbar support, it’s sorely lacking. Eddie kept climbing over me playing King of the Hill, fretting and wondering at the state of his kingdom. Cricket snored away. I watched the passing headlights trace patterns over the walls and read a Louise Penny mystery by flashlight. I knew that 2:30 a.m. could not come fast enough. Maybe it would be sooner.

But 2:30 came and went. I noticed the dawn seeping into dark corners knowing I had not slept. I called the Pacific Power outage line for an update and the new time was 4 a.m.

4 a.m. came and went and they pushed it to 8 a.m., then 1 p.m. Any trust in their estimates evaporated.

I dabbed makeup on in the dark (scarier than none at all) and treated myself to breakfast at Crackin and Stackin, where the server was so understanding, she almost made me cry. Afterward, Denise and Jerry opened their extra freezer to me and I dashed in to save two sacks of frozen meat.

While in town, Giovanni the Honda had a bath and his oil changed, I bought three summer dresses, and the power returned. Life had never changed for the deer and the hummingbirds.

The threat is subdued for now, and a promised string of 90-degree weather revitalizes the spark. Ah, life.