WHEN
THE LIGHTS GO OUT
The following article was written by Alda (Shoults) Weakley and published
in the Ohio Journal:
MEMBER COOPERATION
A member submitted this report of her first experience with an outage in her
individual services. The sentiment and spirit of cooperation is fine. The
cooperation of a neighbor cooperative member helped her in securing restoration
of Co-op electric service. This was presented to the members at our annual
meeting.
WHEN THE LIGHTS GO OUT
When the Lights go out in the little
brown house at the end of the lane,
With nothing to lose and nothing to gain,
My electric went out and oh what a time.
I worked so hard, I thought it a crime.
I can't walk a wire; I can't climb a pole.
Everything was dumb--a digging a hole.
Everything wrong, nothing was right.
I tried so hard to make me a light.
I cut some kindling of hickory and
ash.
Went to the barn and gathered some trash,
I soon had a fire burning, but it wasn't so bright
What the duce will I do for a light?
Then came a neighbor with his head
in the air.
Give me your pliers if you've got a pair.
I gave him my pliers and a coal oil lamp.
He went down the cellar with a jump and a stamp.
When he came up he was dismal and
blue,
I'll go to the phone and call the crew.
He looked everything over, struck lots of licks,
But when they get here, they'll know what to fix.
Things this way is going to my head,
I don't know when to eat or when to go to bed.
I don't know when to feed the chickens or water the stock.
Oh yes, I nearly forgot;
Now I remember, no electric--no clock.
We worked so hard with nothing to
do.
Just sit by the window and watch for the crew.
They soon came down and made things right.
I turned on the switch and there was the light.
Now if your electric is off;
And there is nothing you can do,
Go to the phone and call for the crew.
They walk up the pole straight as a stick,
I never can see how they do it so quick.
If that was a keg they drew up the pole,
I can't think what's in it to save my soul.
Now it could be dynamo or dynamite.
What ever it was, it made me a good light.
Now I will tell you what happened to
that keg on top.
It blew full of snow and the bottom went flop.
Now don't fret and cry until you get sore,
Call for the crew they'll get you some more.
The time has come to say a good,
good night,
But please Mr. Boss, don't turn off my light.
Keep up the good work and whatever you do,
Please give my best wishes, to all of the crew.
Written
by: Alda M. Shoults Weekley
Granville,
Ohio (at Age 73)
Lived
6 days without electric and didn't know what else to do.
She is credited with writing other
stories and poems, although never published.
COPYRIGHT:
Information on these pages is available for non-commercial use only and may not
be reproduced in any format for profit. Walter R. Peterman
Send comments to: Walt Peterman, WEBMASTER
Last updated 21:23 PM 11/10/2006