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And below is how I described in my column what it was like to experience this storm:
The Perfect (Ice) Storm
By Ron Kruger
Usually I fill this space with outdoors activities and all things natural. But recently the entire outdoors was filled with such an unusual phenomenon that the weather itself trumps all other stories. We just experienced the perfect ice storm.
Unlike the merging hurricanes that collided on the high seas to create a storm of immense and unequalled proportions, our “perfect storm” came quietly and gently, with a drizzle and light rain that lasted for a couple of days and nights.
Slowly and gradually, the ice accumulated with tremendous weight upon everything the eye could see. Ice storms are nothing new on this latitude, and except for a few broken limbs and minor power outages, most of them create a panorama of unique, glittering beauty.
But this was different—much different. This storm came with evil intentions, devastating destruction and life-threatening ramifications. Most ice storms create only temporary incontinences to our pampered and climatically controlled existences, and my only worry is for how wild creatures survive them. This one, however, created ongoing, life-threatening situations for thousands of people.
Officials are calling it “the worst natural disaster in Kentucky’s history,” and while such hyperbole usually is open to question or challenges, I can find nothing to dispute it. I’ve never seen anything like it, and as I’ve confessed on the printed page before, I’m old.
It is common for witnesses to describe the aftermath of such natural disasters as looking ‘like a war zone,” but for hours on end, being in this storm was like being in a war zone during a “shock and awe” assault.
Mine is just one of thousands of stories. My humble lodgings sit on the outskirts of Marion, KY (Crittenden County), which was undoubtedly “one of the hardest hit areas” of this storm’s multi-state rage. Though technically within the city limits, I am surrounded by pine trees, and as the crystalline bulk built upon the needles and limbs, they came crashing down all around and upon us.
As the tops and upper limbs of these tall pines broke loose, they did so with loud, splitting crackles, like mortar shells fired from distant artillery. As they plummeted through the lower branches (taking some of them with them), hundreds of ice fingers shattered and fell in unison, and when the whole thing reached the ground, it sounded very much like an explosion, with all the ice fingers like shrapnel spreading all directions from the impact area.
The worst of the assault came after midnight and well after power failure plunged us into darkness. By candle light we listened and wondered. Our home became a foxhole of uncertain protection against the awesome power of nature’s military might.
This relentless barrage of evergreen explosions went on for hours, one after the other. Sometimes two or three fell together, their explosions overlapping each other like rolling thunder. There was no particular cadence to it, and no way of telling if the next one would be a direct hit.
At least three times during the worst of it, huge limbs crashed onto our roof, shaking the entire structure, rattling dishes, knocking paintings from the walls and dislodging light fixtures from the ceiling. One pine tree split down the middle, sending nearly equal haves in opposite direction. One half took out my old woods car, shattering the windshield and totaling the exterior.
Toward daylight the barrage decreased and I ventured out, being careful not to walk under anything. It wasn’t just the pines around my place, but every tree in sight was damaged. Trees for as far as I could see were topped and trimmed in ugly and random fashion, and many were so badly gutted, they are sure to die.
Everything sparkled and glistened, but this time it was difficult to find much beauty amongst the blanket of destruction.
It, indeed, looked like a war zone.
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