When The World Shuts Down, The Stars Come Out
“The whole country of Italy is shut down … weird,” my son Martin texted in our family iMessage group on Monday last week. It is indeed weird that a developed country in the free world might shut down. I have never experienced a country shutdown before, but if my experience in a big city shutdown is any indication, it may not be all that bad.
It was Thursday, September 8, 2011. My colleague Gerald and I had just finished a meeting at the San Diego Gas & Electric office around 3.30 PM and were driving to another customer’s office when we got stuck in a traffic jam. As we approached the intersection, we saw that the traffic light was not working. “Just a bad traffic light,” I thought, “should be smooth after this.” Instead, we entered traffic chaos. “Something is wrong,” we surmised as we turned on the radio. We quickly found the culprit: a huge power outage throughout San Diego county, Southern California, and parts of Arizona and northern Mexico. It was at that point the largest power failure in California history and has since been dubbed the Great Blackout of 2011.
Without electricity, modern life came to a halt. Traffic lights were dead, gas stations and restaurants were closed, credit cards were not accepted, and cellphone signal was almost non-existent. We were lucky to be the last customers “admitted” into the Loving Hut Korean vegan restaurant near our hotel — and to have a $20 paper bill to pay with. At the end of our meal, the owner gave us two bowls of delicious ice cream for free because he had no way of keeping the ice cream overnight.
I checked into my dark hotel room at Holiday Inn Express and had the most relaxing evening of business travel ever. With no internet connection, no light, and no way to charge my laptop, I was in bed by 9 PM. Normally, reading, replying to, sorting through, and deleting hundreds of emails would keep me up until midnight.
As the coronavirus spreads like wildfire, we can’t help but feel nervous. Suddenly the rug of material comfort and security is pulled from under our feet. But some insecurity may be good for our souls. It reminds us that we are not in total control of our lives; that what we have today may be gone tomorrow. As we pause from traveling the world, we’ll have time to ponder where our life is headed. And constrained to our neighborhood, perhaps we can now find beauty closer to home. A little tribulation can certainly bring us closer to God.
The power in San Diego was restored at midnight, and the next morning Gerald and I had a meeting with another company. As we chatted, I asked Mike and Tom, our customers, about their experience the night before. “Well, we had no light in the house,“ Mike said. “So, we pulled our chairs to the front yards and sat there. Soon our neighbors came out and we talked. The kids played with the neighbors’ kids and rode their bicycles outside. It was actually a beautiful night. I have never seen so many stars in the San Diego sky before!” His remark reminded me of what Dr. Martin Luther King said in “I See The Promised Land,” the last speech before his assassination: “I know, somehow, that only when it gets dark enough, you can see the stars.”
As we were settling down for our meeting, Tom said, “We should plan this power outage on a regular basis.” I couldn’t have agreed more.
May we all pass through this coronavirus crisis quickly and safely; and when we do, may we all be able to look back at it and cherish the hidden “stars” in our lives that it uncovered. God bless you and your family!
Thanks for reading! To see my other articles, please visit rsatrio.com
