Baby, It's Cold Inside, Too
Members of a Bowie Family Bundle Up After Losing Their Power and Heat

By Dan Morse
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, February 16, 2007

At 12:25 p.m. yesterday, Ryan Turner looked out his bedroom window and announced some potentially good news.

"BG and E just came through our street!" the 11-year-old called out to family members sitting near a fireplace in the living room.

"Go get them," his mom joked.

"They passed us. Mom, they passed us," Ryan called back.

For the rest of the afternoon, Ryan, his mother, Shari Turner, and four other family members coped through their second day without power or heat in the Kenilworth section of Bowie.

They put two new logs on the fire every half-hour or so. They played trivia games, laughed through obscure movie references, filled out sudoku puzzles. Ryan made himself two bologna-and-ketchup sandwiches.

"It does draw the family closer together," said Dale Page, whose wife, Nancy Page, is Shari's stepmother. "That's about the only positive thing about losing power."

The family members' relatively good spirits could be attributed at least in part to a perspective brought about by severe medical problems faced two of them. Leukemia was diagnosed in Ryan, a fifth-grader at Kenilworth Elementary School, five years ago. He completed three years of treatment, and the cancer is in remission.

Her back ravaged by two operations, Nancy -- who was married to Shari's father, who is now deceased -- needs a walker or wheelchair to get around. An implanted automatic drip feeds morphine into her back. Nancy also has respiratory problems and uses oxygen when she sleeps.

"You doing okay, Nanc'?" Dale Page asked her yesterday inside the home.

"I'm hanging in there," she said, sitting near the fire.

Dale and Nancy, who live about three blocks from Ryan and Shari, lost their power, too. Because their gas heat is governed by electricity, they said, their heat also was out.

For the couple, the ordeal began early Wednesday. The Pages are light sleepers and sleep with some lights on. Dale said he knew precisely when they lost power -- 4 a.m.

Like others interviewed in the neighborhood, they said power outages are a part of life. Residents cited several reasons: all the 50- to 60-year-old-trees, all the aboveground power lines and the elevation, which exposes their homes to wind. Evidence of all three included a scattering of downed branches on ice-crusted, snowy front lawns. Dale said his home has at least two power outages a year.

By 2 p.m. Wednesday, Baltimore Gas and Electric Co. faced 94,800 outages. Linda Foy, a BGE spokeswoman, said that after storms hit, the company follows these priorities: fixing downed power lines that are immediate threats; restoring power to critical infrastructure such as 911 centers and hospitals; and making the repairs that restore power to the most customers. Scattered residential outages come next. Because a utility repair truck is nearby does not mean the crew is making repairs that will affect the immediate area.

Foy said Bowie has particular challenges: It can be difficult for crews to get to the many backyard power lines. BGE is working round-the-clock, bringing in utility workers from as far away as Georgia, and should have power for the "vast majority" of customers restored by tonight, she said.

On Wednesday morning as the Pages' home grew colder, Dale sought a warm place for the night.

That was not easy. Because of her back, Nancy sleeps best in a recliner. Dale found a hotel in Laurel that had a chair and an ottoman. Having ensured that their cat, Pepper, had extra towels to sleep on, the two booked a room.

Three blocks from the Pages' home, Shari also called hotels. She could not find any for less than $70 -- and that was for one she did not think was in a safe area. So she hunkered down for the night. She slept in her bed, under several layers of clothing and blankets, and woke up to a frozen glass of water near it.

Ryan, a sound sleeper, slept on a pullout sofa near the fireplace, completely submerged under three blankets. He awoke to good news: no school yesterday, for the second straight day.

The family ran a small, outdoor generator in spurts -- conserving gasoline -- to keep the freezer from frosting. Members used a variety of methods to keep warm. "Why is the dog up on the couch?" Shari asked her daughter, Sara. "He's keeping my feet warm," Sara said.

At noon, Dale and Nancy showed up. Ryan calls them Grandpa Dale and Mema. In short order, Ryan pulled out a library book on the Air Force, knowing his visitor had served.

"I'm going to give you some questions," Ryan said. "What does the tanker do?"

"That's for refueling," Dale said. "We had a lot of those in Guam."

Ryan was sitting in his mother's lap. The more questions he asked, the more Page's interest heightened.

"Can I see your Air Force book?" Dale asked.

But Shari generally does not give up such holds easily.

"Then he'd have to leave my lap," she said with a smile "No."