With the gas back on, there's no place like home

May 2, 2008 04:36 PM Email| Comments (0)| Text size – +

(Editor's note: The gas outage in downtown Boston didn't just affect businesses and restaurants. Here's a resident's take on a life put on hold.)

By Paula Nelson, Globe Staff

I was just told that National Grid is announcing that 100 percent of service is restored! Hooray!

I personally had my gas service back last night. I got home around 7 p.m. and climbed the stairs to the third floor still wondering whether or not a hot shower was in my future.

My door was open, and I found Michael the landlord and Donnie the plumber in my kitchen with all four burners aflame on my Thermador stove top. That beautiful blue flame burning high and bright. It was a wonderful sight. They had JUST gotten it working after finding some pockets of water in the gas lines and draining and venting or whatever it is you do to get the gas going where the gas is supposed to go.

I asked if they had tested the oven, which they hadn't gotten around to, so I fired it up and as soon as it was proven to be working ... I whipped up a shiitake mushroom, spinach, and gruyere quiche for dinner. Love that Thermador!

There was a lot of turning on faucets to watch the water spit and spurt. Out came rusty, brown liquid as the lines cleared and finally came up to pressure and to temperature ... wonderful hot, hot water everywhere.

We talked about backup plans for the near future, like installing an electric version of the water heater since there is no guarantee that stealthy pockets of water might not be in the gas lines for some time to come. And we talked about how the National Grid guys -- at least those working on Water Street -- really went above and beyond.

In the end, they changed the meters three times in our basement and they worked 15- to-18-hour shifts and most importantly they listened to the frustration and tried to answer all the questions about when and why and how long.

I had a bottle of Cava in the fridge (cheap, but good champagne from Trader Joe's) that I retrieved at Michael the landlord's suggestion. We popped the top and Michael and Donnie and I toasted to good friends, hot water, and gas! And to being home again. There really is no place like home, in circumstances like this. I'm sure that I'm not the only one that's feeling that tonight.