Truth be told, I rarely know what these editorials are going to be about until the last minute. Granted, I often think I have my topic chosen weeks in advance, but current events almost always upend my best laid plans. This month, it happened again.
On June 28, the U.S. Supreme Court issued a monumental 6-3 decision that shocked legal scholars. The landmark ruling, Loper Bright v. Raimondo, effectively upended the rule-making authority of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, potentially putting at risk some 18,000 lower court decisions that now may have to be re-litigated!
Surely, I thought, the massive implications of that EPA ruling, alone, would overwhelm this space and fill my summer editorial.
But then, on Monday night, July 15, a new topic literally came roaring down the street outside my house, as my wife and dog and I huddled in our basement stairwell. Shortly before 10 p.m., one of more than two dozen EF-1 tornadoes blew through my neighborhood in south suburban Chicago, uprooting trees, hurling branches into the Earth, ripping solar panels and attached shingles off roofs, and flinging debris everywhere. Miraculously, not a soul in our community was killed or seriously injured. But many of us lost power for 24 to 72 hours, and all of our priorities and goals for the week were changed dramatically.
But when the sun came up the next day, an extraordinary thing happened.
Neighbors were up and out all up and down the street, helping each other. Talking, hugging, surveying the damage, clearing debris, offering to refrigerate perishables for those without power. Later in the day, public works crews and utility trucks rolled in to help. And within 24 hours, we had workers helping from as far away as California and Georgia. Commonwealth Edison brought in 1,000 workers from other utilities, including 300 from Canada.
"They're facing downed trees, branches all over," said ComEd spokesperson Neena Hemmady. "They have downed lines. They have broken poles. These types of outages take awhile to restore."
But our industry delivered. Local contractors and MEP engineers pitched in 24/7. HVACR firms helped in the summer heat to keep IAQ high and cool air flowing in local hospitals, senior centers, and grocery stores. Indeed, we became one of those hard-hit communities you always see on the nightly news, but the mood here was not despair. It was relief that we were still here, gratitude for all the help received, and resolve to pay it forward.
One friend from the next block pointed to the sign in front of my neighbor's house and said, "That's what it's all about on this street." #HelpEachOther
That's when I realized that my new editorial topic had just arrived. The EPA could wait.
- To learn more about the #HelpEachOther signs, click here.
Indeed, red state, blue state, purple state, urban, suburban, rural... at the end of the day, we are all neighbors. Just as we are all Americans. In the coming months, as the newly redrawn race for the White House barrels toward its dramatic climax, I pray that we all remember that.
Just as the HVACR industry continues to prove just how important it is to our daily lives, whether we are in crisis, or dealing with worsening effects of climate change, events like this also remind the rest of us how we are all part of the broader community. And we all have responsibilities to each other.
In that spirit, I plan to serve as an election judge again this fall, and I urge all of you, in one way or another, to find your own path to civic duty, if you can. Public service is a concept that we hear so little about in these contentious, often vicious times. But I know the instinct is still there and it remains remarkably strong. How do I know? Well, I have seen it on the very street where I live. #HelpEachOther
P.S.
I could also tell you about my first-ever, high-speed blowout while driving back from ASHRAE's annual conference in Indianapolis in late June. But I will save that for another time. Suffice to say, however, the #HelpEachOther theme plays a leading role in that story, too.