THE ICE STORM OF 1998

by Stan Ransom

Dedicated to all those who helped us weather the ice storm.
January 15, 1998

It was on a Tuesday evening that the rain began to fall,
And it coated trees and shrubs of every form;
And the Clinton County folks stocked up on batteries and bread,
From reports that this would be a dreadful storm.

Cho.:  That mighty storm, that freezing rain,
That icy rain that fell for days across the top of New  York State,
The branches crashed; the power failed,
It was the Ice Storm of the Century in 1998.

Day by day the rain kept falling at a most surprising rate,
Ice grew thicker as the rain began to freeze,
Soon the nights were punctuated by the awesome, fearsome sound,
Of the pop and crack and whoosh! of falling trees.

We heard the sirens wailing through the long and anxious nights;
Transformers burning cast an eerie glow,
And we huddled in the kitchen dimly lit by candlelight,
As we listened to our Hometown Radio.     Cho.:

The trees with ice two inches thick just didn't stand a chance,
And the limbs and branches fell all over town.
There was nothing anyone could do but sit there in the dark,
When the poles and power lines came crashing down.

The children were excited at the fairyland of ice,
With an overtone of grim impending doom.
When the power went and television faded from their sight,
Excitement now became unhappiness and gloom.      Cho.:

Policemen, Bell-Atlantic, NYSEG and MLD
And the firemen worked to keep us safe and well.
Mayor Rabideau sent out a call for help across the state,
But when this aid would come no one could tell.

Now the Hospital and fire stations opened wide their doors,
Schools and churches offered shelter, heat and light.
People took their thawed or frozen food and shared them with their friends,
As they faced another dark and dreary night.    Cho.:

Then Governor Pataki came to see the fallen trees,
And helicopters searched for those in need,
And the National Guard arrived to help us weather out the storm,
And we waved to them, a welcome sight indeed.

Now the city streets are being cleared, the lights are going on,
With people helping neighbors all they could,
But we never will forget this mighty storm of '98,
With its roadside legacy of piles of wood.    Cho.:

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Copyright by Stanley A. Ransom, Jr. (BMI)
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