My parents live in Connecticut and just got their power back. It’s OK, they bought a generator after some other hurricane sent them back to the 1800s a few years ago.
But I talked with them on the phone tonight and my dad said that the government had flown in repair crews from Kansas City — their trucks and everything on huge military craft — to help get peoples electricity back. (It’s called “response”, Brownie, look it up.)
My dad passed them in the car the other day and thought he should say something nice to them since they were busting a gut to get his electricity back so he stopped and rolled down his car window.
“Guess we’re going to have start rooting for the Chiefs from now on!” he said.
The guy paused and shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
That’s class. The guy’s hundreds of miles from home, probably working long hours (and, I don’t know, maybe making overtime for all of it) to help people who aren’t even his customers and he’s still got a sense of humor about it.