The Whackout of '06
“Do you mind if I quote you?”
“What?”
“Can I quote you?”
“Why would you want to call me?”
So begins my stint as a fake journalist. The story: underground electrical fires cause widespread blackouts in northwest Queens. The scene: corner of 30th Avenue and 48th street in Astoria, NY, one block from my apartment. The atmosphere: apocalyptic chaos.1
That’s right, from the city that brought you the mid-winter subway strike now comes the mid-summer electro-crisis; a ten day festival of sweat, rotting food, and community outrage. Triggered by the summer’s first (and relatively mild) heat wave, Consolidated Edison’s Long Island City power network collapsed, causing rolling blackouts to some of the city’s most densely packed neighborhoods. Mine was one of them.
It was quite the scene; with no workable air conditioning, refrigeration or primping irons, our entire community spilled out onto the streets, demanding answers. My neighbors grew increasingly angry as utility workers scurried around, doing their best damage control.
At times, you could cut the tension with a knife. During the blackout, I overheard a lifetime’s worth of that sweet, sweet New York vernacular. You know, like the way Steven Seagal talks in Out for Justice: “You kiddin me? Is Con Ed kiddin me? I mean, Jesus H. Mary and Joseph. Come on! {hand gesture} Faaaaaaaack…” I heard roughly 10,000 variations of the preceding sentence; 50% of which were spoken by someone named Angelo.
But the opportunity was too good to pass up - I was in the heart of a story that gained momentum with every passing air conditioned-deprived minute. Also, the week before I had watched All the Presidents Men and Good Night and Good Luck, so I was feeling very crusader-ish. With notebook and pencil in hand, I hit the bricks to do my best Anderson Cooper impression.
Claiming that I worked for a news website, I first approached Dan Moy, a middle-aged New York City employee who I had seen speaking to the police. After a few jittery missteps (see this article’s opening exchange), we delved into his blackout experience.
That day, Moy got home from work to find a car blocking his driveway. He begrudgingly parked his one year old BMW on the street a few blocks from his apartment. He didn’t think much of it - our neighborhood is a highly competitive parking environment, even during a blackout. But this day, Dan didn’t realize he had parked above a fiery manhole of death.
He learned, a few hours later, that flames erupted from the manhole cover’s rims. Not knowing whose car it was, the NYPD towed it in order to avoid an explosion. Unfortunately, in the tow truck driver’s haste, he ripped the axels off Moy’s high performance $75,000 German sport sedan. Ouch.
At the conclusion of his story I had several burning questions2: what’s the blackout’s root cause? What’s actually happening underneath the street? Why is it leading to manhole fires? When will this be fixed? Who moved my cheese? And so forth.
To get to the bottom of this mess I attempted to interview the utility workers, but it was no simple task. In-between jack-hammering and putting out electrical fires, they weren’t too inclined to talk. The ones I was able to warm up to cited ConEd's company policy: “We’re not supposed to talk to the media.” In true journalistic fashion, I’d reply, “Come oooooooon…”
Inexplicably, this approach broke down the defense of one gregarious worker who preferred not to divulge his name. For narrative purposes, I’ll call him “Don” (the name embroidered on his shirt).
Don explained that a handful of feeder cables had crashed due to a huge spike in electrical usage. A feeder cable supplies a massive amount of electricity to a particular network. Approximately 1.21 jigawats, if my calculations are correct. If a feeder cable breaks, the remaining ones pick up the slack. But in this heat wave too many of them blew, causing far too much stress on the remaining lines, causing Blackout ’06.
What compounded the problem, Don said, was that the Queens power network is a highly complex maze of underground wires. Its inaccessibility and archaic nature make spot-repairs impossible. So the wires overheated, their insulation burned, toxic underground gasses acted as accelerants, and….count it! En fuego! Manhole fires ensued. In some neighborhoods, the sewer caps were launching twenty feet off the ground. A sight I imagine would be spectacular to witness if it wasn’t so extremely dangerous.
Now realizing the situation’s gravity, I wanted to know the plan. How will this be fixed? When will this be fixed? What’s the next step? Well, first would be putting out the fires. That’s the next step, naturally. But then what?
To get answers I next spoke with Mike Roark, a disaster planning official on loan from the city of Los Angeles. As we were speaking a strange thing happened - a crowd began to form around us. Before I knew it, Roarke was not only answering my questions, but also calling his men to action. I asked him, “So what’s the plan?” and he replied, “Listen up people! Let me tell you what’s south of us: no more museums, no more department stores… just homes! People! If we turn and run now, they’re going to be defenseless! You don’t like my plan? That’s good. Give me another plan, but don’t tell me we’re backing out!” 3
Anyway, to sum it up: took waaaay too long to be fixed. ConEd treated the public like shit, and it turned into their worst PR nightmare. But they have no one to blame but themselves; initially, instead of being upfront about the enormity of the problem, they held back. They basically acted like a little kid who’s not sure if he’s in trouble with his mom, so he volunteers as little information as possible in order to retain Nintendo privileges.
Politically, the aftermath was entertaining. After the situation was under control (in just under two weeks!), NYC mayor Mike Bloomberg held a press conference during which he commended the work of ConEd’s CEO, Montgomery Burns.
But before Bloomberg could even finish his cronyism-leaden thank you, a local Queens official, standing right behind the mayor (and within camera-shot), began to brazenly shake his head and roll his eyes. It was gloriously over the top. The only better expression of disapproval would have been him faking a jerk-off motion.
Come to think of it, I really wish he had. I couldn’t think of a better way to conclude Blackout ’06.
1Not really.
2Get it?? Burning questions?? (sorry)
3Didn’t actually happen. This was Tommy Lee Jones in Volcano. The rest is true - I swear.
Article Series
This article is part 5 of a 5 part series. Other articles in this series are shown below:
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Saved by Supermans Girlfriend
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Isnt it Quixotic
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Unsolved Mysteries 179th St
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Ehhh....Is This What You Want?
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The Whackout of '06
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