Today I woke up to a cold, dark house. No electricity! "Don’t panic," I thought. "Help is probably on its way. "
When I was ten, our family moved to an area where electric power was unavailable. For the first year, we heated flatirons on the kitchen range to iron our clothes; we read and did homework by kerosene lamps at night; and we heated enough bathwater to fill the old tin tub every Saturday night so we could all have a turn at getting rid of the grime we had accumulated during the week.
Then my Dad purchased a gas generator. By running it for several hours each day, we stored up enough power to run a few dim electric lights each evening, or to run our radio. (For some reason, they wouldn’t both work at the same time.)
Mom usually had some cookies or popcorn ready when Dad said, “Radio Time,” and we all huddled together in the dark and listened to our favorite programs: I Love a Mystery, Jack Benny, The Shadow, Fibber McGee and Molly, etc. Afterwards, we would talk together about the programs and about other things that had gone on for each of us that day. Our family grew very close during those years.
When we moved back to town a few years later, we were delighted. We had an electric iron to press our clothes; we had electric lights in every room, and even one on the front porch; and best of all, we had hot, running water in the bathtub. No more sharing of bath water. But life changed.
My sisters and I made friends and spent most of our free moments with these new friends. When we did come inside the house, we often retired to our rooms with a book and didn’t emerge until a chore or a call to dinner. My parents got involved with activities at a local lodge and were out a lot. Our nights of huddling and sharing in front of the radio were a thing of the past.
Thanksgiving is just around the corner. How cool would it be if, after the meal is over, and everyone is sprawled out in the living room, I surprised them with an hour or two of cassettes from my husband’s complete collection of Jack Benny tapes? The teens in the family would probably wonder what in the world was going on; I can hear them complaining already.
I’m pretty sure my sisters would have no trouble figuring it out.
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