As we await Sandy’s arrival to Connecticut and we all have power, check out the ongoing map project we’re working on. We’ll add things like shelters, closures, flooding and anything else that might be helpful to others. If you have any information to add to the map, either leave us a comment here, tweet us @wherewelive, or email firstname.lastname@example.org. We’ll be updating this on an on-going basis.
***Update*** The map is open for anyone to edit. If you’ve never added a marker to a Google Map before, you can find instructions at goo.gl/fHKoq. Feel free to contact us with information too and we’ll get it up if that’s easier!
After several days without power, boredom starts to set in. One listener of Where We Live (who I’m assuming was out of power for a long time) was bored but creative. We received this Ode to CL&P this morning. If you have other ways of expressing your feelings (good or bad) about CL&P please feel free to share them with us at email@example.com.
Ode to CL&P
By Marci Moreau
An early snow begins our plight what seems so long ago
Too soon it falls on still dressed trees and brings us to our knees
Our homes go dark, our fingers cold and streets seemed paved with bark
Through all our faith is steadfast strong, we believe there is no fear
With riches plenty in our State help surely will be here
Alas we hear Jeff Butlers call echo through the night
With all we give, how much we pay, of course there will be light
Days march on, no phone, no food, my hair I want to dry
Thank goodness for the restaurants or I would really cry
We wait for hope with each new day yet nothing comes our way
I listen for Charles Shivery but he has naught to say
Our elders freeze, our children whimper and spirits become grim
Shelters fill and people hear apologies for there is no room at the inn
Business halts and much is lost in times so very tough
What will we do and how will it ever be enough
Still confused and cold and dazed, why were we not prepared
Tales of low inventory and no staffing all sound very weird
In final hours crews arrive from lands so far away
They hook things up and work so hard for that golden ray
Through the nights they mend the streets, our passages now clear
Alas we know our future plans need so much work from here
Adieu my friends I must return, my home is warm and bright
Back to life, to have a go and try to make this right
But first I call CL& P and say I cannot pay
It seems my funds have all been spent on dining out each day
But wait I’ll speak Sir Butler’s name, after all he is the chief
In that I trust he will agree to give me some relief
I am sure he will wait with patience for my bill
He understands just what it means to live amidst a very icy chill
Local TV news outlets aren’t the only ones getting apocalyptic about this weekend’s snowfall. NPR is getting ready, too. You’ll see why in this AP note:
Forecasts called for up to 20 inches of snow across the region, including Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and reaching up to New York. About 16 inches fell west of Charlottesville, Va., the National Weather Service said.
Snowplows cleared the runway at Andrews Air Force Base in suburban Washington as President Barack Obama returned from climate talks in Copenhagen after the snow had started falling. The White House said Obama rode in a motorcade back to the White House, instead of taking his helicopter, because of the conditions.
20 inches of snow is news here…but we’re used to it. 20 inches of snow in DC shuts down the world. (“Obama couldn’t take his helicopter!”) Listen for breathless coverage on NPR this weekend (including some from Connecticut)!