Connecticut Light and Powerless

Have you ever had the weird idea that if trees threatening to fall on and/or lie on power lines were removed before a storm, it might be better than waiting to do it after several or even hundreds of homeowners have lost power? Some power companies appear to like that idea, but the process is complicated.

Apparently, CL&P has "dangerous trees and limbs" specialists. They, alone—certainly not a homeowner—can tell which lines are threatened. Their experts also know that if one evil tree or limb on a street looks hostile, all other trees on that street must be converted to firewood.

I confess I have no training in this highly technical field, but I thought I had detected a potential tree-to-wire problem on my street. When I spotted the tree-trimming crews working both above and below my street, I thought it might be a convenient time to have them check the trees I was concerned about. I spoke to the tree group, but they need authorization before they are even allowed to get out of their trucks.

I'm not easily discouraged; heck, I even refuse to sign CARE petitions. So I called CL&P. After pushing approximately 67 buttons on my phone, I was asked to leave a message. They said I'd be contacted. One of their experts waited until we weren't home and left me a form which said something like this: "We called when you were out. Please sign this authorization form as soon as possible. Leave it on your doorknob for pickup." When an expert tells me to do something ASAP, I do it!

I got lucky. I spotted the expert when he came to pick up the authorization. We had a pleasant visit, and I felt quite pleased that he recognized the problem. With that urgent authorization in his hot chainsaw hands, I thought I'd soon hear timber falling as my power lines were becoming threat-free.

After a month without any action, I again called CL&P. This time I must have hit the right buttons because I actually got to talk to a nice lady. She listened to my story and explained that she did not have a chainsaw, but would talk to those who did. I really would have preferred that she do the work herself, but she said she'd follow up on my request and call me if there were any problems.

Another two months have now passed, and as I look out on the first snowstorm, I am concerned that when that nice lady finally decides to call me, I'll be powerless. That might be the solution: I'll probably get to see that tree expert again—but not until I am literally as powerless as CL&P has made me feel for three months.