It Was A Hot One

Soulard Market, St. Louis


Sweet, Cool Relief at the St. Louis Zoo

Happy At Hagar: I am not the blonde.

Chihuly Exhibit at Missouri Botanical Garden
On my return flight from Saint Louis last Monday morning, the Captain’s mention of a temperature of 72 degrees Fahrenheit over the intercom was cause for celebration. Yes, it was in fact 7AM CST, and the day held the promise of both heating and moistening up. However, any temperature below 90 degrees in our Midwestern region at this time of the year sends my temperate sensitivities into positive overdrive, especially after what I encountered when I landed in Saint Louis on Thursday, July 20th.

Having been so preoccupied with the sale of our home, the absence of my husband and the closure of our brief tenure in Minnesota, I boarded my outbound flight completely unaware of the devastation
that had occurred in the St. Louis area just the night before.

Mother Nature’s fickle hand had wrought what was described to me as a tornado coupled by straight line winds by the passenger that sat next to me. My concern rose as his description progressed to include the stories of destruction in the St. Louis area; he was in fact flying home early from a business trip due to his wife’s desperate situation: half of their roof was apparently missing. Additionally, the airport itself had been struck, scattering debris far enough to reach Highway 70, landing haphazardly in the midst of this well traveled thoroughfare.

As I responded with incredulity to his delivery of this news (“What?!”, “No way!”, “Get out!”), it never truly sunk in that the ramifications of said situation could have been any worse than the storm itself. That is, until we landed.

Exiting the airport to search for my father, I was first struck square in the face by an outside temperature of 99 degrees coupled by a dewpoint of at least 95%. As anyone that knows me will attest – especially my family – I am a world class whiner when confronted by the type of heat that enveloped me on that day. It closes its tight fist of discomfort around you, and chokes out any possibility of enjoyment from the idea of being outdoors.

Not until I settled into the backseat with my bubbly squirrel of a niece was I delivered the news that became the bitter cherry on top of my rapidly melting cake: 500,000 citizens in the St. Louis area were without power, my parents included.

Arriving at their home, there was no discernible difference between inside and out. The only comfort provided came from my parent’s basement. At least 15 degrees cooler, it became our headquarters for the evening. Candles were lit and flashlights became both toys and beacons of comfort on trips up the stairs to use the restroom.

Once tucked in to bear a night of uncomfortable slumber, I took the high road in my imagination: perhaps the power would be on when we awoke.

Friday July 21st provided no joy in this regard. We were left to awaken to another unbearable heat index and begin our search for breakfast at an eatery with electricity. After having lucked out at our attempt to be fed, I then commenced my visit by joining my sister and her two kids at Missouri’s Botanical Garden to enjoy what turned out to be a spectacular exhibit of Chihuly’s pieces scattered through the grounds in a semi-organic fashion.

During our wanderings through MoBOT’s Climatron, the clouds gathered with fierce intensity from the West and swiftly exploded just above our hot heads. As the rain hammered down on the glass that surrounded us, my father called with news of relief: the temperature was dropping. Still however, no power. At the same time, my sister received a call from my more than miffed brother-in-law reporting that this new weather system had conquered a tree in their backyard. The end result: although they had not lost power to the initial swath of storms, they were now a part of the vast majority. My back up plans to enjoy an evening of central air promptly fell through.
Back to Dad’s home, the difference was instantly noticeable. We could all inhabit the main level of their home due to the drop in temperature. While my inner dialogue exclaimed, “Yes!” the idea of moving West to the cool mountains continued to solidify its appeal.

On Saturday, we awoke to the disconcerting hum of the neighbor’s generator; yet another reminder that the lack of power would continue to taunt our every endeavor. The newspapers reported two deaths now – both of them having been elderly citizens. I envisioned St. Louis’ countless brick structures as one giant kiln.

Now having hit the actual weekend, I felt that certainly power would be restored to the many – and that the few would soon follow. My need for air conditioning having been placated by this drop in temperature, I still longed for the hum of it, the reliability of its mere sound seemingly enough for my weak constitution when it comes to Midwestern heat.

I departed mid-afternoon for my sister’s home. She still lacked electricity when I arrived. We sat in her living room. We talked and we sweated. My cell phone rang. Dad had power, but alas I had made plans that required me to stay with sis all night. Why cruel weather gods, must you mock me?

That evening, a group of us bore witness to Sammy Hagar in concert at the UMB Bank Pavilion. This is an amphitheater, and thanks to Friday’s spate of thunderstorms, the weather had taken a turn to “pleasant”; especially in the evening and outdoors.

We arrived back to my sister’s after the Red Rocker rocked St. Louis. Still no electricity.

Despite the lack of power, I was provided with a rather effective alarm clock in the form of my niece’s new parakeet on the morning of my final day in St. Louis. I made my way back to my parent’s house in short order. Walking into their home brought the sweet relief of central air and all of the trappings of electricity. I was able to finally go to the bathroom without the aid of my cell phone’s glow. I could open the fridge and pull out a cold beverage to my heart’s content.

My last day progressed far too rapidly, and I was brought to tears upon having to say goodbye. No lack of power, no weather system could have really ruined my visit. It was my family that I went to see, and see them I did.

Amongst the things that I did while there:

Soulard Market
St. Louis Zoo (penguin and puffin coast facility always a cool 60+ degrees)
Movie: Monster House (worth every dime and every breath of cool theater air)
Hitting balls at the driving range
Hanging out at the community pool
Missouri Botanical Garden
Sammy Hagar (that is another blog entry – talk about a subculture of fans)
A rousing game of Boggle outside with a flashlight

Onward!