Florida Archives

December 21, 2012April 12, 2021

Did the World End?

Just in case all this Mayan Calendar stuff is real, I decided not to spend a lot of time working on a post for Friday. I’ll just revisit the last time the world was supposed to end in the Year 2000.

My boss, the IT manager, saw it coming a long way off, so he started working on modifying the mainframe computer programs years before the crunch was going to hit in 2000. Suddenly, though, our corporate folks started running around with their hair on fire hiring consultants and making us fill out reams and reams of meaningless CYA forms. At one point, I can remember saying, “We have a choice: we can either be prepared for Y2K or we can fill out the forms.”

By the time 2008 came around, the stickers on the window looking into my office had faded, but they still proclaimed I was Year 2000 Compliant. Above it was a sticker with the word “SWEAT” that once had a circle around it with the international slash symbolizing NO, as in NO SWEAT. Telecom was ready.

New Year’s Eve 1999

All of the IT staffers, including my telecom techs, had their days off cancelled as 1999 ticked down. Mike Turpie, my #2 Guy and I were going to be at the office. Telecom Tech Terry Williams was on standby with orders to have a sober New Year’s Eve in case we needed him. I thought at least ONE of us should get a good night’s sleep in case Mike and I were swatting flies through the wee hours of the morning.

We were confident: most of our equipment had been replaced in 1998-99 with new gear that was certified to work in 2000 and beyond. People with Nortel phone switches like ours were members of a big international users group and had been comparing notes for months. The canaries in the coal mine would be the people on the other side of the globe who would see the New Year hours before we would in Florida. As the day went on, they kept checking in with AOK messages.

An hour before midnight, we dropped off the commercial power grid and switched to generator power “just in case.” I photographed Mike sitting under the clock as we got closer and closer to what I said was going to be either the most boring or the most “interesting” night of our lives.

Seconds before midnight, Mike placed a call – probably to his wife – and waited to see what happened.

Nothing unusual happened.

We turned to a carefully prepared checklist: dialed into all our remote switches; placed local and long distance calls; looked for alarms, made sure voice mail was up, confirmed that the call centers would open in the morning, and waited about half an hour to see if anything started smoking. Life was so good.

Then we looked outside

When I designed the switchroom, I made sure it didn’t have any windows so it would be pelican-proof in hurricanes. To see what was going on, we had to go down the hallway to the fourth-floor lobby where we could look out west over the city. When Mike and I got to the end of the hallway, the city was dark. I mean like, REALLY dark. No lights as far as we could see.

This was Not Good in capital letters. Here we were in a four-story lighted tower of light surrounded by primeval darkness. I expected angry and panicked West Palm Beacheans to charge us with torches and pitchforks at any moment.

With a bit of trepidation, I picked up my two-way radio, switched over to the newsroom channel and said, “545 to Base 30, Uhhhh, any idea what’s going on? It’s realllllly dark out there….”

“Base 30 to 545. A drunk took out a utility pole.”

And that’s the way of the world ends. Not with a bang; not with a whimper, with a drunk hitting a power pole.

December 16, 2012

CRASH! and a Sunset

The intersection around the corner from us used to average a crash every couple of months, but lately it’s been quiet. Still, the sound of screeching tires and a dull thud caused the nap magnet to release me from its grip.

I walked out in the front yard and noticed some of the neighbors looking down the street, so I hopped in the car to see if anybody needed help. It turned out to be a minor fender bender without any obvious injuries, so I went back to the house.

On the way to the front door, I looked up at the red sky at night and saw the moon that Dad would say is “holding water.” Let’s hope the red sky at night will signal a better week for us all. (Click on it to make it larger.)

Photo geek info: I underexposed the image about 2-1/2 stops from the automatic reading to make the sky go darker.

September 4, 2012

Hurricane Isaac Flows By

I went on a bike ride last night. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on two wheels, so my legs were mush. About two-thirds of the way home, my calves started talking to me. “If you don’t stop what you’re doing, we’re going to give you a hurtin.”(Click on any photo to make it larger.)

Water spotted with foam

I listened to my calves and strolled out to the boardwalk that runs along the C51 canal between Lake Worth and West Palm Beach. It drains a substantial portion of southeast Florida between Lake Okeechobee and the ocean, including the water that has had my kid’s house an island west of town.

Not catching much

I didn’t see much activity of a catching variety going on. This couple said a guy closer to the spillway hauled in a good-sized bass, but they hadn’t caught anything yet.

August 27, 2012August 27, 2012

Isaac Visits West Palm Beach

Shooting hurricanes is tough. Not only do you have to deal with being wet and miserable (not to mention worrying about a piece of flying tin roof taking your head off), but still photos don’t capture the sounds and movement of the storm. TV guys can make a nothing storm look scary by shooting water gushing out of a drain spout or stop signs going whipity-whipity-whipity.

Hurricane Kate in 1987

I shot these two national guardsmen being told they should abandon their checkpoint and seek shelter because the winds of Hurricane Kate were getting dangerous. About 30 minutes later, a reporter and I were on the second floor of a motel talking to some folks we had spotted watching the storm from their window.

“How long have you been hearing that sound?” I asked one of them.

“Quite awhile,” he answered. “What is it?”

“That’s the sound of nails pulling out of wood.” Just then, the suspended ceiling collapsed, drenching us with water. A couple of heartbeats after that, we were looking at sky because the roof of the motel had peeled off and been deposited in the parking lot behind us.

We went down to the first floor where a bunch of utility workers were waiting to hit the streets. The reporter asked if she could use their phone to check in with the office. One of the workers offered a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass while she was talking to the city desk. She waved off the glass, snatched up the bottle of Jack and upended it. I think it was her first hurricane.

Tropical Storm Isaac a wimp

I guess I should withhold judgement. We’ve had some power flickers (some folks have been dark for hours) and our cable TV service is out, along with our Internet connection. A UPS has smoothed out the flickers and I’m using a Verizon wireless card to file this post.

Except for rain bands that have been coming in waves all day, it hasn’t been too bad, not much worse than a strong summer thunderstorm.

Video of the wind and rain

Wife Lila took all but the opening shot of this video. I’m going to have to confess to napping through most of the heavier stuff in the late afternoon. I figure if I don’t hear the sound of nails pulling out of wood, then there’s nothing to get excited about.

By the way, it’s a well-known fact that preparing for hurricanes causes them to go somewhere else.