My Family Is Probably The Only One In The World That Regularly Re-creates A Major Natural Disaster

This picture is actually not of an ice storm (it's snow), and not taken in NC (it's in
Idaho a few years ago). But it gives you sort of an idea.

North Carolina doesn't get a lot of snow. What it DOES get is the occasional ice storm—a winter rainstorm where the ground is colder than the air, so rain falls as rain but becomes ice once it hits the earth, encasing everything—trees, grass, cars, dirt—in a delicate covering of glittering ice.

Ice storms are beautiful, but—like most winter storms—potentially deadly. The weight of the ice causes large tree branches to break or, occasionally, topples an entire tree. In a place that is as forested as NC, you can imagine what kind of devastation might follow.

In 2002, my family (and everyone else in our town) experienced what is still the biggest ice storm in the 16 years they have lived in North Carolina. Everyone's power was knocked out; my parents spent the day bundling 2-year-old triplets into layers and layers of clothing and trying to convince them that rolling around in blankets to keep warm was really a fun game. Lucky for us, my parents live out in the country and have a different power company than the majority of Durham residents. We had our power back within 24 hours—the rest of the city was out for somewhere between five days and two weeks!

Because we had power so soon, and because my parents live in a big old house with plenty of floorspace, they invited several families who were without power to come and stay until their power was restored. Three families from the ward came and let me tell you, it was a party! We ate great food every night (including a Mexican feast by my dad and an Italian feast provided by a dear friend who served a mission in Italy), played games, watched movies, and generally had an amazing time. We were all genuinely bummed when the Duke power grid was restored and all our guests left. One of our friends gave us a Christmas ornament that year that said "The Ray Hotel."

The next year (I think), my mom decided we were going to "re-enact" the ice storm. We invited some of the original refugees (those who hadn't moved in the interim) to come spend the night and enjoy 24 hours of great food and fun games in commemoration of the original ice storm. That tradition has stuck over the years, at some point growing to include a 2-day long Lord of the Rings marathon. It's become one of our ironclad holiday traditions, usually falling either between Christmas and New Year's or on New Year's weekend itself. Every year, we pile onto all the couches/chairs/pillows we can find and partake of the cinematic excellence that is The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Not everyone spends the night anymore, but usually one or two people do. And there's always an abundance of delicious snacks, treats, and an Italian feast for dinner.

(Nearly everyone I have explained this tradition to thinks it is really, REALLY weird. And it probably is. But I still love it. The funny thing is, my family is honestly not big TV/movie people—hardly any of us watch a whole lot of television over the rest of the year. But this one tradition is a favorite!)

Last night, on day one of our ice storm reenactment/LOTR fest, I looked around and the thought popped into my head: We are so weird. We are probably the only family on earth who, ten years later, annually re-enacts a major natural disaster!

Still, I gotta say: I like it that way!