Dreamed We Were Astronauts

When the power went out 20 years ago

I fondly remember that evening of August 14, 2003.

At around 4 in the afternoon, the great ‘Northeast Blackout’ began and would last for over 2 days.

That afternoon I was in my corporate cube, with my corporate costume and game face on, when my computer flickered and shut off. We weren’t on laptops in those days and computer towers needed power to run, let alone be on the internet.

I waited for awhile, staring at my dead monitor, before I left my office building and joined a few colleagues for drinks at the bar across the street. We sat and talked, slung beers and waited for the power come back on. No one realized this outage was going into the night and well beyond.

Eventually it got dark and the owner wanted everyone out. I had no cash on me so the bartender pulled out an old carbon-paper credit card copy machine and took my numbers. Cha-chunk, it went as she pulled it across my card with considerable strength. I remembered that sound from when I pumped gas as a teenager.

With my tab paid in principal, I started a 5km walk home over the Bronson St bridge. The sun had set on Ottawa and it was glowing a spectacular dark orange in the west. The deep colour bled into the dark grey sky as night was falling. The only visible lights were from cars running over the long bridge. They looked like dual flashlights on parade. It was a beautiful and creepy scene, one that will forever stick in my head.

On my walk, I convinced myself there was little point in going home and sitting in the dark. I decided to hail a cab and find some friends. Most drivers ignored my wave until one kind cabbie stopped with a smile. I opened the back door and negotiated before I got in.

“I don’t have money,” I started with a sincere tone, “but if you trust me, my apartment is only a couple of minutes from here and I have cash there. I’ll run up, get the cash and get you to take me to my friends”.

He nodded, agreed and drove me home.

After climbing the stairs of the 3-storey house where I lived, I fumbled around the little apartment and found my cash stash.

With no cell phone, I had to guess where my friends might be holed up (and it wasn’t hard in those days). I asked my trusting chauffeur to drive around so I could try a few haunts. He again agreed.

Off we went on a mini-safari around the darkened downtown streets of Ottawa.

At each bar and tavern where we stopped, I could see shadows of patrons raising glasses by candlelight inside. And in each case the doors were locked. There was no room at these inns. “Can we try another one?” I’d say to my driver, rather sheepishly. I was surprised at his continued patience.

After trying several spots, each with locked doors, I gave up and relieved my cabbie of his duties. I paid him, thanked him for the pleasant, yet apocalyptic tour, and ventured out to be among the zombies on Elgin St.

The calmness of the city was palpable, and dark shadow pedestrians seemed to float along the sidewalks aimlessly. It was just so quiet. Eerily quiet, in fact. Almost no one spoke. It was incredibly difficult to see faces unless you were inches from someone’s nose. I floated with them in silence along the sidewalks.

After meandering a few blocks, I saw a friend’s apartment glowing with lit candles in the distance. I imagined that was how a lighthouse might look to a stranded sailor out on the waves, searching for land. I made my way toward the flickering windows looking for refuge and someone to talk to; someone to share this bizarre and weird unfolding event.

Little did I realize my night had just begun.

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Dreamed We Were Astronauts is a song I wrote for my band Camp Radio inspired by that night.

You can listen to Camp Radio’s version here on Bandcamp.

There is also a mellow version here I released more recently.

Lyrics for Dreamed We Were Astronauts:

I’m feeling cloned

With no spark, no space, no phone

And no ride downtown

The grid has long gone down

With the sun and the sounds

On this lonely ground.

It’s so weird, so calm

And I’m hooked on Rocket songs

No words could sway

Front porches proud cliches

And I’m into sway

As we pine away.

We’ll it’s alright

When astronauts and motorbikes in moonlight

Lead us through the bike paths with my Maglite

I’m feeling starred in your yard.

On the flip side

When cricket orchestrations pale the starlight

And your fading silhouette takes me to Springtime

The poet’s gone

Now it’s dawn.

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While I’m at it, I also highly recommend reading Moon Of The Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice. It’s a fantastic fictional story inspired by the blackout as well. I loved it and am reminded I need to read it again. :)