Storm, and Kerosene Lamps

It was a big one tonight. Trees are down and branches broken everywhere. A big limb from the maple that shades the deck is now laying across the deck rail and we'll have to cut it first thing in the morning. Larry cut trees out of the driveway to get to the house tonight.

Yet miraculously nothing is really damaged except our trees; even the electricity and phone still work. In this country, that's amazing. Usually every storm will put them out of order and the kerosene lamps have to come out.

When we didn't have electricity here, we had many kerosene lamps to light the house. It would be very dim when the lamps were first lit at dusk, but as the evening got darker the lamps got brighter. I never did figure out how that happened. We used to read by them, work by them and even do chores by the soft gold light of kerosene.

I cleaned the lamps every week. I'd fill them up, then wash the outside of the bases with warm soapy water and dry them to a nice shine. Then the chimney would be washed and polished with newspapers. The wicks would be trimmed and turned up and the lamps returned to their places.

We kept two on the kitchen counter, two on the table, four in brackets on the living room walls, a couple on tabletops, one above each of the four boys' beds, one in the bathroom, four in our bedroom, and a few others here and there as needed. We had lanterns for chores, or flashlights if we were lucky enough to have live batteries--they never lasted long.

Most people did not notice the lack of electricity until evening, when we began lighting lamps. The house was bright enough with sunlight, we had a gas stove and hot water heater, running water and a gas refrigerator. We heated with wood, as we still do. So it wasn't obvious that Edison hadn't made it to this ridge until we needed light.

Even though living without electricity might sound appealing, it really was not much more energy efficient. We had to use kerosene; we had to buy gas for the generator that ran the pump bi-weekly; we used bottled gas for the stove, refrigerator, and hot water heater. So we were still using fossil fuels, we just weren't using commercially produced power from coal. Add to all that the necessity to drive to town to do laundry at the laundromat, and you can see that we weren't really saving money either.

I tried doing wash by hand, but have you ever used a hand-cranked washer to do laundry for 6 farming people? It's a life-consuming task. Great for muscles, but it took me a full day or more every week just to wash clothes. So I'd go to the laundromat, and bring everything home to hang out to dry. It took at least 4 hours to get it all done. When I wasn't working off the farm, that was okay, but once I started working, it became very difficult. And when I started going to college, living without electricity became a barrier to doing the things I needed to do--like homework.

There are many days when I miss those quiet times of no appliances humming, the freedom of not knowing when the power was off. But there are many more days when I load the washer, the dryer, the dishwasher and sit under the ceiling fan on the porch, looking out at the beautiful place I live. At those times, the electric bill is worth every penny.

I wrote this poem several years ago, and it fits tonight's thoughts.

Light

I miss the kerosene lamps
That once filled our house
With soft warm light
The chimneys grayed and
smoke-patterned every week
I’d wash and rub them clean
With newspapers
Like the old folks told me
Makes ‘em shine, they said

I lit the lamps
When the sun went down
Not waiting until full dark
The faint light first lost
In dark corners
But when the sunlight faded
The light inside grew stronger
So even from the top of the ridge
almost a mile away
A passerby might see
The glowing warmth within