Nancy Williams: Thanking utility workers for their service

Nancy Williams
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When big storms are coming, most of us tuck in. We see to our outdoor animals and porch furniture then put a flashlight beside the bed. We may wake up briefly during the night and think wow, that wind’s howling, not giving much thought to the people who are out in it.

But there are people watching the radar and weather reports. Utility companies are gathering and preparing. With all the high-tech everything in the world these days, somebody still has to be boots on the ground in a storm. It takes a lot of big power to move big trees quickly. Roads need to be cleared during the thunder, lightning and high wind. Drones and computers aren’t so good with axes and lifting.

I was first aware of linemen and the like when I went to southern Mississippi a week or so after Hurricane Katrina. Amid the chaos of emergency workers and disaster relief folks, clearly the utility company men were the big dogs. Literally. Biggest trucks I’d ever seen. Big chainsaws. Men in hardhats. Adrenalin and testosterone oozing.

One of the main things I remember from that experience was that FEMA needed me. Oh, how they needed me. I’m a systems person and can run with the best in project management. FEMA-ers would appear every couple of days in suits and with clipboards, producing nothing. Made me a government cynic.

While FEMA, with zillions of dollars of resources, was writing things down and taking notes, the Baptist men organizations were well under way fixing meals. Red Cross was writing checks. Small churches were receiving and distributing donations from small churches in other parts of the country. Organized and efficient.

But none of it was possible until the utility workers cleared the roads.

Before and since this experience, I’ve been sure the collective IQ of men actually drops when they are in a group with time on their hands. Whether in a dugout or at a barbecue, somebody is going to bet somebody else they can do something better or faster that neither of them should be doing to start with. Bugs will be eaten, sticks thrown as javelins, feet will be burned on hot rocks, hair singed. Danger and competition ensue, and it rarely ends well.

And yet when all that man energy and strength is harnessed, and when there is an emergency and it matters, a group of men are an awesome force.

During my Katrina days, nobody could get to anything until the trees and downed electric lines were moved. The utility men knew it and worked long days. Up early, stayed out all day, came back in after dark. Dirty and weary. They’d eat a lot. Go to bed and do it again the next day.

I fell in love with their steely-eyed, getting-it-done, knowing-what-to-do. At one point, I was talking on the phone to my sister, during an uncommon moment of being able to get a cell phone signal. She asked what I was doing. Staring at the man utility workers, I said. Oh, because they are hunks? Not at all. Definitely muscles and strength involved with what they are doing, but it’s more than that. It’s an appreciation for them knowing they are the most important part of what is going on right now and taking it so seriously. They stick to themselves, have their own language and take on 200-year-old trees tangled with live wires, blocking the road where emergency workers need to pass.

I occasionally pass convoys of power company trucks and workers on the road to an area expecting or amid a big storm. The different utility companies pitch in for each other and send support — personnel, machinery — to even their competitors in the industry. That inspires me too. Putting aside business-as-usual to pitch in for the greater good.

This time of year, when ferocious storms come through, the power goes out. Lots of us get up during the night to have a look at the deep darkness, light some candles and fret. I’m a little afraid of the dark and try to dial up mental images of men who are out in the storm taking care of us. The power comes back on within a few hours. As if by magic, but it’s not magic.

When I’m in an airport, I like it if military people pass by and regular folks step aside out of respect. “Thank you for your service.” I feel the same way about utility workers on storm duty. Away from their families in the middle of the night, cold and wet, on radios, cutting trees, grounding wires and doing whatever they do out there.

Thank you for your service.

Duke Energy workers clear limbs from power lines along State Park Road following a storm on Monday, April 3, 2017.


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