“Life with Lenora” is a weekly series capturing the experiences and occasional musings of our opinion editor.
This week, I survived ice armageddon. That isn’t an exaggeration. As Oxford, Miss., braved historic winter conditions, rendering its roads impassable and its power grid unreliable, I was holed up in a dear friend’s apartment stocked with perishable morale and non-perishable food.
While Southerners have fared their fair share of icy conundrums, the last time I really experienced snow was as a five-year-old in Tokyo. On the other hand, power outages were abundant in my childhood home of Phnom Penh, Cambodia. In retrospect, however, I’d much rather be powerless in 90-degree weather than in sub-freezing temperatures.
It was only until Monday night when we were miraculously rescued and driven (very slowly) to a place with steaming showers, hot food and perhaps most importantly, high-speed internet. This is a comfort and privilege I do not take for granted, especially since most of Oxford remains battered by the ice and cold.
For the sake of my own reflection and to inspire unoccupied readers who have made it a priority to read their school newspaper in such harrowing times, here is a largely comical, but chronologically accurate, account of the past weekend.
Sometime before 11 p.m. on Saturday night, we hit play on James Cameron’s “Titanic,” a film I had previously not seen. In hindsight, was it a distasteful idea while awaiting imminent cold to watch a historical fiction where thousands die of hypothermia? Perchance.
At 11:02 p.m., the lights flickered into terrifying nonexistence. Luckily, I had made it a priority to download a plethora of movies and television shows to my device.
Unluckily, I had forgotten to charge said device, so we only had about an hour of watch time — barely enough to witness the tragic conclusion of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet’s on-screen romance.
With Jack and Rose in mind, I actually slept the best I had in a long time. My deep sleep apparently carried me through the terrifying sounds of trees exploding. The next morning — by morning, I mean 1 p.m. — the party decided to make the trek to campus for hot food and cellular service.
Before that, however, I filmed an ice apocalypse makeup tutorial with 13 percent battery left on my iPhone. Note to self: Cosmetic application with candlelight as your only light source is more difficult than it seems.
Bundled in six or seven layers, we waddled like penguins from U Club to the Jackson Avenue Center, inched across the black ice coating Jackson Avenue, made the unfortunate trek down Fraternity Row and finally cut across campus before making it to Residential College South.
On the way, many pictures of the damage were photographed. Nature’s greatest contradiction, as I have come to realize, is that something so destructive can be so breathtaking.
It was at our destination we took refuge in the limited selection of the P.O.D., charged our electronics to full potential and complained feverlessly about the weather.
Fast forward through the return march under the stars against the howling wind, we made it back to our comparably warm abode around 8:30 p.m. Circled around candles in the pose of a would-be seance, we exchanged childhood memories and snacked on perishables destined to rot if we did not.
Much to my best friend’s chagrin, I drew a still life of him. It wasn’t very good.
If there is anything this time has reminded me, it is that human connection is sacred. It often seems as if everyone wants to live in a village but no one wants to be the villager. This week, however, Oxonians came together, supporting each other with warmth, food and camaraderie.
It is this energy I hope can carry us through the storm and beyond. We are nothing as humans devoid of the community we cultivate.
Lenora Collier is a sophomore international studies major from Hattiesburg, Miss.
