Expressway: The lights that never go out

Reader Michael J. Kannengieser lives in Nesconset.

Maybe "blackout" isn't the right word to describe the loss of electric power. There's certainly an immediate sense of being helpless and stranded; however, my family always has emergency supplies and plenty of food. In spite of our dependence on electronics and household appliances, living without electricity is mostly an inconvenience.

During Tropical Storm Irene on Aug. 28, I awoke at around 7 a.m. and saw the familiar, red display on my alarm clock. Without my glasses, I couldn't make out the exact time. Before I could reach for them, the lights went out.

In the daytime, being "off the grid" isn't so bad. In spite of the storm, there was still enough light coming in from outside that we didn't have to burn candles or use lanterns. We ate cereal for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. Dinner consisted of hot dogs prepared by our 12-year-old son, Jeffrey, on a Sterno stove I bought for such an occasion.

Our cellphones were hampered by unusually bad service. Using my phone's car charger, I was able to keep my handset with a full battery and remain in contact with my employer, family and friends. Still, I was frustrated. When darkness fell on my block that evening after the storm, I felt a twinge of anxiety as I anticipated having to rely on flashlights and candles for the foreseeable future.

At around 9 p.m., Jeffrey sat with me in my Chevy Malibu as I recharged my cellphone. The Yankees were playing in Baltimore, and I tuned into the broadcast on the radio. My son and I chatted about the day's events, and then I listened as he suggested a survival strategy for the week. When were done, I shut off the engine and we climbed out of the car and into near-blackness. Then, I noticed lights from above.

More brilliant than I had ever seen, stars penetrated the darkness and glittered from horizon to horizon. Clouds which had hugged the Island since Saturday vanished. This spectacular view captivated Jeffrey as well. I called to my wife, Nina, and our daughter, Juliana, 16. When they came outside, they did not have to be told to look up.

The absence of passing cars and outdoor lighting from homes and streetlamps removed layers of luminous residue from the atmosphere. It was as though veils were lifted. We were able to view the sky as it should be appreciated -- in stark, natural brilliance. For several minutes, we enjoyed the celestial vista, and we only looked away when headlights from passing motorists spoiled the majestic panorama.

Monday morning at around 1:30, our electricity was restored. We were lucky it didn't stay off for days. Moments after shutting off wall switches that were left on before the blackout, I recalled standing in my driveway with my family hours earlier and marveling at the moon and the constellation Orion in their rare splendor. Though the brilliance of the night sky would be ruined by streetlamps and headlights again, I'll always cherish that unique moment we shared under the stars as a family.

Yes, "blackout" is definitely the wrong word. I see that now as clear as nighttime. hN