Let There Be Light: My Look Back on the 10th-Anniversary of the Northeast Blackout of 2003

“No antenna. No radio. We’re back in the 19^th Century!” – Captain Billy Tyne, The Perfect Storm

 

Today marks the 10^th-anniversary of the Northeast blackout of 2003, a moment in history that I shall never forget. I remember every last detail as if it happened yesterday: I’d finished attending a job workshop at an employment agency over on Donlands, and was planning to take the subway downtown later that afternoon to hang out at the Eaton Centre, but first I wanted to head home to drop off my papers and work on an email to a girl I’d met at the employment agency and hoped to possibly date. I’d just put the finishing touches on my email and was about to click the “send” button when the power abruptly went out.

 

I didn’t think much of it at the time (aside from being a little peeved over losing the aforementioned email to said girl I liked), until I stepped outside and spoke with a crowd of neighbours gathered on the street who mentioned that the power outage was citywide and all of the traffic lights, streetcars, and subways were supposedly down. That revelation made me worried for my grandma, as it was hot out and I’d heard that summer blackouts were really bad for seniors. Since I couldn’t phone my grandma to check on her, I decided to walk from our house in the Coxwell & Danforth neighbourhood to her apartment building in Cabbagetown.

 

Along the way, I saw pedestrians of all walks of life directing traffic across the Danforth, and spoke to various passers-by who mentioned that the blackout was occurring across the province and even in some parts of the United States. I’d been told scary rumours that terrorists had allegedly bombed a skyscraper in New York City, and hated being unable to confirm anything that was going on around us. When I reached Broadview, I saw the broken-down streetcars I’d heard about earlier, sitting empty and abandoned, and cut through the valley of Riverdale Park into Cabbagetown. A few minutes later, I stood in the entrance of my grandma’s building buzzing her apartment, and to my relief, she was fine and with my uncle.

 

I had dinner with my grandma and uncle before beginning my long evening trek home, finding a $10.00 bill along the cobblestone portion of Carlton at the edge of Riverdale Park. When I arrived back at the house ($10.00 richer than when I’d departed), my parents were there waiting and furious with me for not leaving them a note, as they didn’t know where the hell I was and had no way of reaching me. Like the millions of other people affected by the blackout, they had to walk home from their jobs downtown. We had to light candles throughout the house like our ancestors before us, open the windows for cool air, and avoid touching the fridge. We still had no way of confirming what was going on, despite the rest of the world knowing what was happening to us.

 

As there was nothing we could really do aside from sit in the dark and wait for the power to eventually be restored, we sat outside with the neighbours and looked up into a beautiful night sky full of stars (probably how Van Gogh saw it while painting), courtesy of the complete lack of light pollution. The next day, we were fortunate enough to have our power restored but had to use it sparingly. We saw the online night shots of the Toronto and New York City skylines silhouetted in black, were relieved to learn that the blackout wasn’t the result of terrorists, and got to let our relatives in Venezuela know we were okay. Before that blackout dimmed the lights of Toronto, I never gave much thought to random power failures, but now I get nervous whenever they occur.

 

In closing, the blackout taught me two very important lessons: 1.) Like the characters in WALL-E, we humans rely too heavily on technology these days, and are pretty well screwed should that heavy basket of eggs ever drop. Folks in the Victorian era knew how to function without electricity, and we should learn how to do so as well for our own benefit. 2.) Electricity should always be conserved and any lights or gadgets not in use should be switched off (if you don’t need the power, make it an Earth Hour). Instead of maxing out the air conditioning at home, consider cooling off at a shopping mall, movie theatre, your local swimming pool, or the beach. After all, those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it, and I certainly never want a repeat of August 14^th, 2003.

Lights Out.