GRAY — We have seen four major weather events in the last 20 years that stick out in my mind. Countless others have occurred – these particular storms just resonate personally:

The Great 100-Year Flood of ’96: The Presumpscot River was flowing over the Turnpike between what were then exits 9 and 10, in Falmouth and West Falmouth, those in the know will remember.

The Ice Storm of ’98: Until very recently, the resulting power outage was Maine’s largest ever.

The Patriots Day Storm of ’07: We saw heavy tree loss and power failures, especially along coastal York and Cumberland counties.

Whatever we’re going to name this storm – the All Hallows Eve Storm of ’17?

First and foremost, let’s not, as has been the case since the initial election of Paul LePage as governor, use this as a jumping-off point to push your point of view, albeit via an editorial (Nov. 6), and bash Augusta, specifically LePage.

Advertisement

As Mainers, we endure harsh weather all year long, and it is the public’s fault if they are not prepared through lessons learned over time living through these events. Basic survival supplies should be in everyone’s home, including, to say the least, batteries and a full tank of vehicle fuel to reach needed destinations.

As far as municipalities being prepared, Yarmouth has one of the most comprehensive, community-interactive municipal tree care programs in the state, and their outage numbers were some of the highest percentage-wise in regard to customers served and customers without power.

There have been many cases that have occurred in recent years where weather anomalies occurred and the community has banded together to take care of the unexpected. Consider all the roads lost because of washouts and inadequate culverts 21 years ago in southern Cumberland and York counties; Route 27 in Carrabassett Valley washing out several summers ago, and, as recently as this past year or two, the roads washing out in the Jackman area.

All of these are prime examples of a weather event that was so severe, old-timers had never recalled such a thing occurring before, while afterward, people came together and took care of the issue in hours, as was the case with the reopening of Route 27. (Great job, Maine Department of Transportation, working 24 hours straight to finish that project!)

Central Maine Power and their out-of-state brethren from afar just restored power to almost 500,000 people in a week’s time – tip your hat in respect to them. It made me proud, as I drove north on 95 on Nov. 7, from Salisbury, Massachusetts, to Bangor and then back to my office in Portland, to see the smiles on the countless faces of the linemen and linewomen who were southbound in their scores of bucket trucks. They were heading home knowing that long, grueling hours of nonstop hard work had brought back normalcy to hundreds of thousands of people they’ll never know. As weather anomalies become the norm, improvements to the infrastructure will be made in order to handle these examples of “the Al Gore science.”

As far as the dry summer and insect-infested trees, coniferous trees have a shallow root system typically affected by high winds in very moist soil conditions. Had we had a normal to wet summer and fall, the devastation would have been greater. Perhaps if the regulations weren’t so strict and stringent along the coast, which was highly hit by this storm and is populated by affluent liberals and the browntail moth, greater efforts could be made to eliminate the pests (the moths, not the liberals). Insect-related compromise to the root systems of the deciduous trees that we saw fall in this weather event can and should be curbed.

We as a people are hearty and long survived in Maine. A nor’easter by the woodstove or a thunderstorm on the screened-in porch (if the wind isn’t blowing the rain into the porch during that particular storm) are forms of seasonal entertainment to us prepared Mainers.

Regardless of the hoopla stirred up by the weather service or over-inflated predictions made by the Storm Center, we know how to make it through the thick of the storm and bask in the sunshine that always breaks afterward. Being a Mainer isn’t about census statistics, political or scientific stance or surviving a storm. It’s a birthright: You’re either in the club or you’re not. I believe it’s high time people who aren’t in the club stop speaking via the written press on behalf of those who are.