On Web, gratitude, frustration spill out
As power outages entered their fifth day Tuesday, frustration bubbled up from people still sitting in the cold and dark – although so did gratitude from people watching line crews deal with the storm damage.
Both were visible in reader comments filed Tuesday with online versions of Telegraph stories. Consider a few examples.
From “Ted” (in Hollis): Route 122, the main north/south road through Hollis, still has no power north of Silver Lake. PSNH uses the analogy of a tree when describing how they prioritize repair work, giving attention to trunks before twigs. In case they’re wondering, Route 122 is not a twig.
From “Mark” (in Hudson): Not a ($%#*@!) truck in sight. The power would be on if there were a selectman living in the neighborhood. . . . I’m going to run in the Spring.
From “Anonymous” (in Nashua): Schools have started and we still don’t have home back – and no sight of a truck. I hope PSNH does have a plan and it’s not all random (on who gets power and when). Also it would be great if they can publicize a general guidance for each area so we can make plans (if power is not going to come this week we can as well travel to relatives homes in other states or such).
From “bean”: I would also like to thank the PSNH workers and the other utility workers that came from other states to help us get back on our feet. They are the heroes in all of this!
From “chris”: I think whenever there is a disaster of this scope and size, there will always be people who have no real clue how it all works but they talk as though they do. I’d rather applaud the reciprocal nature of how utility companies work, with trucks and crews dropping into our area from afar.
Few were as happy as one reader, who wrote a version of the most famous Christmas poem of all, titled “A Visit From the Linemen,” and e-mailed it to the paper. Some excerpts:
Twas two weeks before Christmas, when all through our town,
Not a light bulb was shining, TVs made no sound.
Generators were humming in garages with care,
With the hope that Public Service would soon bring warm air.
. . . .
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter!
We sprang from our warmth to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
To peek from behind blankets I had hung on the sash.
. . . .
More rapid than eagles the linemen they came.
And we cheered them and thanked them and called them by name:
From Connecticut! From Michigan! From Canada! and Ohio!
From D.C.! and New Hampshire! all bringing such brio!
. . . .
To the top of the poles! To the treacherous line!
Take good care! And be safe! You are brave and so kind!
As the wind ceased its howling and no ice fell anew,
The worst ice storm in history with relief for so few.
. . . .
As they spring to their trucks, to their teams give a whistle!
As away they all fly, like the down of a thistle,
They should hear us exclaim, ere they drive out of sight,
“Many thanks to you all, and to all a good night!”