Power of prayer really pays off during storms

At the risk of jinxing all that I believe to be sacred and necessary (that would be electricity, cable, internet) I feel like I dodged a bullet. Actually, I feel like I dodged two bullets. On Friday, while I was making dinner and as Matthew was happily watching TV in the family room, I listened to the wind howling, and occasionally peeked out of the window to watch our Eagles flag whipping around. With each gust of wind, a few more beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I was petrified for what could happen. Then, the lights flickered, just for a nanosecond. Nothing shut off, and Matthew never noticed (thank God) but it was enough for me to notice. A few minutes later, the lights flickered again. That’s when I started pleading with God, all the saints and every member of my family who has died to keep my power on.

Internally, I was panicking. Outwardly, I remained calm and kept on with the dinner preparations – and prayed that Matthew wouldn’t smell my fear.

The only person who fears losing power more than Matthew is me. And my fear only stems from the fact that Matthew’s greatest fear is losing power. Seriously, if this kid sees a Peco truck he goes into a tailspin of worry.

About 10 or so years ago, in late February, early March and during one of those ice storms, we lost power. For four days. We were without power for four days. It was awful for me to repeat that we lost power for four days. It was that awful. And while we certainly had the option of staying at my mom’s – one thing kept us from her warmth and electricity. Matthew.

Matthew’s greatest fear may be losing power, but the thing he hates most in this world is change. Two things factor into this character trait – that extra chromosome he carries around, and that he’s my son. I also hate change. But, because I possess the typical number of chromosomes, I can shift priorities, and let my need for warmth, food, TV, hot showers, microwaves, overtake my dislike of change.

So, during that time, we spent the late afternoons and early evenings at my mom’s house – eat dinner, bathe, do wash – then

So, the one TV in our house didn’t work? OK chances are my brothers had control over it anyway, so I was missing an episode of “Combat,” “Hogan’s Heroes” or the “Wild, Wild, West.” Big deal.

head home to sleep. Under tons of blankets. Matthew was only 6 or so, and was totally freaked out by the darkness in our house. So, to settle Matthew down before bedtime I read to him – by the light of a battery-powered lantern and sitting in the mudroom. For some reason Matthew felt safest in the mudroom.

I called Peco everyday, several times a day – willing them to give me a time frame of a few minutes – as in, you’ll be back up and running in a few minutes. But the answer I kept receiving was, we’re doing our best – probably in 2 days or so.

But on the fourth day (actually, it was nighttime) Peco trucks lined my street. Despite the frigid temperatures my neighbors also lined the street – cheering on the Peco workers, offering coffee, donuts, their first born children, just to assure that they didn’t leave until we had power.

And just like that, without Peco workers even accepting our bribes, we had power.

Since that incident, and because of that incident, it there is even a threat of thunderstorms, if a lightbulb burns out, if a light won’t turn on, if a Peco truck is parked on my street, Matthew is overwhelmed with concern (I’m being kind here).

So, that’s why Matthew has a fear of losing power, and I have a fear of Matthew if we lose power.

When the storm hit over the weekend, and the lights flickered but never went out, I said prayer after prayer of thanks. Not exaggerating. Then, when I was officiating youth basketball games Saturday morning and heard tale after tale of no electricity, I was really thankful.

And that’s why, when the weather forecasts started hinting at another storm to hit midweek, I was convinced we’d lose power. No way, I thought, will we dodge that second bullet.

As I waiting for the lights to flicker and Matthew’s panic to swell up, I let my mind creep back to when I was a kid.

Why didn’t we ever lose power for long stretches at a time?

Why didn’t my mom have to read to me by a lantern in a closet?

The only weather-related problems I remember was when the area was hit by Hurricane Agnes in June of 1972. I guess we lost power – but the most vivid memory I have of that time were the National Guard helicopters landing behind my house in Logan Square to deliver water.

There had to be times when we lost power. But, maybe I didn’t remember because it really didn’t impact anything. As in -- so, the one TV in our house didn’t work? OK - chances are my brothers had control over it anyway, so I was missing an episode of “Combat,” “Hogan’s Heroes” or the “Wild, Wild, West.” Big deal.

As I got a little older, we added a few more TVs to the household – but we still only had 6 (3, 6, 10, 17, 29, 48) viewable TV channels (7 if you count PBS). Finally, when I was in high school my brother Kevin talked my mom into getting PRISM (he’s also the reason we had the neighborhood’s first video game - Atari’s Pong - and VHS machine before anyone even knew what one was.)

So, if the power went out prior to 1976, we were missing exactly 6 TV channels (7 if you watched PBS, which the Kehoes did on occasion because Nana Min was a huge fan of “The Lawrence Welk Show”).

Every house had at least 2 transistor radios that ran on battery so we were still able to listen to WFIL, WIBG, WYSP and WIFI (no, not wireless internet, WIFI the Philly radio station).

And air conditioning, at least in the Kehoe house, just didn’t exist. One year my mom finally bought a ginormous window unit that

we put in the kitchen that sort of cooled the downstairs.

My room was in the front of the house, and we would put an industrial fan in my front window, shut all the doors and my side window, and the strength of that wind -- along with blow drying my hair in a matter seconds -- created air movement in the entire house. I will not claim it cooled the whole house, because, contrary to what my mom tried to convince us, it was not cool air. It was hot air and therefore did not cool us.

But, I’m guessing, if the power was out when I was a kid, I just wasn’t home to notice. I would have been on a basketball court, riding my bike or walking around the neighborhood with my friends.

And if I was home, and it was strong, powerful thunderstorm happening, chances are I was sitting on the porch with Nana Min, watching what she called “God’s fireworks.”

I’ve tried that with Matthew – telling him that storms were God’s fireworks, but every time I said that, he kind of just smirked at me. I was convinced my suggestions were falling on deaf ears -- until this summer. We were in the beginning stages of what was going to be a pretty impressive storm, so of course I was saying novenas to the patron saint of electricity. At some point I realized Matthew wasn’t in the family room. I found him on the porch – he was taking photos of himself enduring the storm. He was, in his words, “conquering his fears.” Hmm. I’d like to report that that summer storm erased completely Matthew’s fear of losing power. I’d like to – but I can’t. He has gotten a smidge better, so I’ll take any step forward, no matter how small.

And, to counter-balance the jinx-potential this column is when the next storm hits, I will be spending a good portion of the day praying to (saints) Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Edison, and other person who had a hand in lighting up my house. Cheryl Kehoe Rodgers is a content editor at The Times Herald. She can be reached at crodgers@ timesherald.com.