The lights kept flickering most of the day on Saturday. Every time the power went out, I don’t know why, but I would run around the house resetting all the digital clocks. I stopped doing that after about a half dozen resettings.

That was until about 7 p.m., when once again it went out, but this time it stayed out. One glance outside said all we needed to know. Ice covered every twig on every branch of every tree, every power pole, and every power line in Northern Michigan. For me, living in the country meant no electricity, no water, and no heat. My lab Buddy was spooked by the quiet, without the inaudible humming of a heater or a refrigerator, etc. What else to do but go to bed in hopes the lights would come back on soon.

That didn’t happen. I had a natural gas heater in the garage that didn’t require electricity, so early the next morning I pulled the old Coleman camp stove off a dusty garage shelf and heated water to make coffee. I sat there in the candlelight, checking my phone for information on when the power would likely be restored, when I heard a gun go off just outside my garage. Buddy jumped. I grabbed my flashlight and stepped outside to see a very large branch had snapped off a tree, sounding like a shotgun when it broke. As the sun came up, it became obvious the garage would be my home for a few days.

As a kid growing up in rural Nebraska, I remember the times when we would lose power. It was fun (remember I was just a kid). Dad would pull out that same Coleman camp stove and a couple of Coleman lanterns, and with no school, it was like an adventure to me.

But for the old man me, this latest adventure was quickly losing its allure. By Sunday afternoon, I was thinking how nice it would be to have just an hour of power to take a quick shower and charge up my phone. I pulled a couple of large coolers out of my shed and placed all my frozen food in one and my refrigerator food in the other.

With Buddy the lab glued to my side, I fried up a toasted ham and cheese sandwich for dinner, then headed back into the cold house, grabbed a few extra blankets, and went to bed, only to be interrupted by Buddy at 3:00 in the morning. He wanted to go outside and take care of his business. So out we went, then into my makeshift kitchen in the garage to once again start making coffee.

As soon as the sun came up, I took a short drive around to see the damage. It was catastrophic. Trees down everywhere, often times taking power poles and lines down with them. As I got back to my garage, I once again thought how nice if I could just have an hour of power to pump some more water and heat up the house.

Now Monday comes. Everything was still shut down. My son-in-law called and asked if I could go check out the cottage we share on Hubbard Lake. I did. Opened the door and water was all over the floor, coming from the bathroom and running into the kitchen. First thought, broken water pipes. I was wrong. Seems the electric pump, which also was powerless, that lifts our sewage into the drain field has reversed its flow due to gravity. We found that out only after we spent nearly two hours soaking up the water with towels and a plastic dishpan. Then we called Alpena Septic, who fortunately was within a mile of us on another service call, and they came right over and pumped out the lift station reservoir. I thought, if only we had one hour of power, the pump could have done that for us, but not so.

Now Tuesday comes. My son-in-law got his hands on a portable generator for their house and asked me to come over, where they had heat, water, and hot food. Sounds like a good idea, except this old man said nope. I am going to go down with the storm at my place! Then later that afternoon my son-in-law called to say their power was back on, and do I want to use his generator? Hell yes! This wasn’t fun any longer.

So here he comes, about 5:00 Tuesday evening, and along with my grandson, they unload this heavy machine along with a mile of extension cords and about four large gas cans. We run the cords through a window, pull out the freezer and refrigerator from the wall and get them hooked up. Then add yet another cord to a portable heater to help take the bone-chilling cold out of the house. I joked that by the time we get done hooking everything up, power might come back on.

Well, they headed back to their place, leaving me alone, with a roaring generator, cords, oil, and gas, and then, exactly one hour after they left, you guessed it. My power came on, but not until I got my wish. I got an hour of power thanks to my son-in-law.

I close with a huge shout out to all the linemen and the local and downstate crews that did in a couple of days what appeared to me would take weeks. I pray that everyone affected by this storm survived and by now has back the power of power. Feel free to share your adventure with me at Gregawtry@awtry.com.

Greg Awtry is the former publisher of the Scottsbluff (Neb.) Star-Herald and Nebraska’s York News-Times. He is now retired and living in Hubbard Lake. Greg can be contacted at gregawtry@awtry.com.