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Dept. of Old Poetry
Sunday, 27 August 2023 06:57 pmChicago, Summer, 1995
Back in 1995, Chicago suffered through a five-day heat wave that killed more than 700 people, a majority of them old, poor, and people of color. Almost 30 years later, a lot has changed in terms of the city's response to heat. But we still have many of the systemic problems that exacerbated the tragedy. And now we are dealing with a climate crisis that could make the Anthropocene the final hurrah for humans.
Last week, Chicago experienced two days where the heat topped 100F (37.8C) in some neighborhoods, with heat indexes hitting 120F (48.9C). I'm not aware of any deaths, which would be a blessing. And our heat was certainly less dire than elsewhere in the U.S. or around the world.
Still, we kept our blinds down and our curtains drawn for both days. The one time I headed outside, to take garbage to our dumpsters, I was staggered by how hot it was; certainly worse than I'd experienced for years - possibly since July of 1995, when the heat helped kill my cat, Rissa.
Once the temps dropped (they're really lovely right now. We've been able to turn off the AC and open the windows the last couple of days), I started thinking of that time, and remembered a poem I wrote for my dear heat-hating friend Nick.
In (dubious) honor of last week's heat, and the likelihood that we'll see more and more destructive summer heat, here's the poem.
*** *** *** ***
Back in 1995, Chicago suffered through a five-day heat wave that killed more than 700 people, a majority of them old, poor, and people of color. Almost 30 years later, a lot has changed in terms of the city's response to heat. But we still have many of the systemic problems that exacerbated the tragedy. And now we are dealing with a climate crisis that could make the Anthropocene the final hurrah for humans.
Last week, Chicago experienced two days where the heat topped 100F (37.8C) in some neighborhoods, with heat indexes hitting 120F (48.9C). I'm not aware of any deaths, which would be a blessing. And our heat was certainly less dire than elsewhere in the U.S. or around the world.
Still, we kept our blinds down and our curtains drawn for both days. The one time I headed outside, to take garbage to our dumpsters, I was staggered by how hot it was; certainly worse than I'd experienced for years - possibly since July of 1995, when the heat helped kill my cat, Rissa.
Once the temps dropped (they're really lovely right now. We've been able to turn off the AC and open the windows the last couple of days), I started thinking of that time, and remembered a poem I wrote for my dear heat-hating friend Nick.
In (dubious) honor of last week's heat, and the likelihood that we'll see more and more destructive summer heat, here's the poem.
*** *** *** ***
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