November 25,2020

The Rev. George Yandell, Rector

Power Grid

On the morning of July 22, 2003, the massive violent windstorm later known locally as “Hurricane Elvis” swooped unexpectedly across the Mississippi River, causing wide-ranging destruction throughout Memphis and Shelby County. At its peak intensity, the storm — a “derecho” in strict weather lingo — yielded winds of 108 miles per hour, close to the 111 mph threshold for a Category 3 hurricane.

Straight line winds raged across Memphis and the mid-south. When the storm passed, everything was turned upside down. Huge old oak trees uprooted. Houses de-roofed. Streets impassable. Over 300,000 homes, 70% of Shelby County, were left without power in the wake of the storm. Two individuals were left dead as a direct result of the storm, with several more deaths due to fires caused by unattended candles or generator accidents.

The days after the storm, the daytime temperatures stayed somewhat mild for Memphis-highs in the mid-80’s, clear skies, mostly. The roads got sort of clear, if you could dodge the debris and mountains of trees stacked everywhere. Power was off everywhere (except downtown, where all the lines were underground). I served Calvary Church downtown- it had power. The ice maker worked well. I brought big bags of ice home each evening to keep food in the fridge from spoiling.

The power grid became a topic of conversation everywhere. “When will our power be restored? Why can’t MLGW get us to the top of their list?” (MLGW = Memphis Light Gas and Water.)

9 days after the storm, I was getting ready to go to work when I heard the sound we’d all been waiting for- large trucks with power company logos coming down our street. When a line of them parked, I jogged up to the lead truck and met the team as they got out. They were from Kentucky. I praised the team (and God, silently), and asked the foreman, “What dictates where you restore the power? How do you know where to start?” He looked at me with a quizzical smile. He said, “You have to start at the center of the grid where the power station is, then work your way out. You’re not very close to the center of the grid.” I immediately learned how little I knew about power grids.

I started thinking about the grid as a metaphor for relating to God. The further away from the source, the more cut off I am from power. Connecting is the main thing. “Keeping the main thing the main thing” works in industry and theology. (Thanks to Jim Barksdale and Fedex for that mantra.)

In this covid pandemic, many of us are cut-off from our contacts with our friends. We can’t visit family members unless we quarantine prior to the visits. We can’t gather in social settings without making sure we’re not too close. And we can’t do Church as we have in the past. We miss singing God’s praise in company with our fellow parishioners. The past few weeks have offered a respite for some of us- the outdoor services have allowed us to receive communion and be in communion with one another, albeit at safe distances.

The power grid is still open to us. For many of us, viewing the Sunday services online isn’t as satisfying as worshipping in person, but it does keep us connected. Calling our fellow worshippers connects us. Praying the daily office online or in solitude keeps the main thing the main thing. That’s my prayer for the coming days- that we let God’s power connect us from a distance until we can worship and serve the resurrected Jesus together. G. Yandell