I was on an elevated train leaving Boston during the blackout of '65. It took a while for the generators to kick in and everyone was remarkably calm. After catching my bus, I reached my stop and remember walking the few blocks home in the dark and quiet.
I recommend books by author Raymond Chandler; The Big Sleep, Farewell My Lovely are the only ones at the top of my head.
Oops, I believe they're set in the '40's, is that okay?
This looks familiar:
Boy, did I hate that thing, it was so noisy and I was always waiting for it to explode.
I don't think Mom liked it much, either, she didn't use it often.
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