Washington Island is a small community of only about 700 people. Geographical isolation makes for close bonds that were put to the test when the Island weathered two historical winter storms in two consecutive years.
The Island rose to the occasion, according to Kari Gordon, leader of the emergency warming shelter in the Community Center on Main Road. Patrons and volunteers at the shelter described the feeling there as warm, comforting and even festive.
Over the course of the four days it was open, the shelter served pancakes, waffles, cinnamon rolls, oatmeal, egg bakes, spaghetti, pulled pork, lasagna, soups, sandwiches, meatloaf and pasties, Gordon said, thanks to several restaurant owners, local cooks and service industry professionals who wanted to help.
“At one point I had to tell them to ‘back it down guys’ or no one was going to go home when their power came on,” Adam Steffen, fire department assistant chief, said. “All jokes aside, putting Kari in charge at the shelter was the best thing I did.”
Lengthy power outages can be mentally difficult, Gordon said, especially for people who live alone. The shelter was more than food, water and warmth, but companionship and commiseration to pass the long days waiting for the lights to come back on, she added.
Julia and Auden Luckenbill
Julia Luckenbill and her husband Jethro Frank spent this winter on Washington Island with their baby, Auden. With an ice storm hitting the Island, Jethro had to go to South Carolina for a job on March 29. Julia was prepared and had water, batteries and candles in supply.
“I expected to lose power, but not for five days,” she said.
Julia did not want to risk taking six-month-old Auden out on ice-covered roads, so they hunkered down with their little propane stove until Monday. Friends checked in on them, but her phone service was in and out, she said.
As the days ran together, “I started to get in my own head a little bit, being alone with the baby,” Julia said. She went to the Community Center on Monday afternoon and said when people there realized she was on her own they gave her the support she had not realized how badly she needed.
Julia and Auden were some of the last people to get their electricity turned back on. By day four, she was very worried about the supply of food in their deep freezer, as well as stored breastmilk. Friends came and helped move the freezer to an outside shed, but Julia said she had several offers to move her supplies to another freezer, including from Mary Lynn Andersen at the Electric Cooperative, who offered to put it in the business’s freezer when Julia called to ask about power restoration.
Rod Gordon, a shelter volunteer, also came to her house to check the propane heater and carbon monoxide detectors to make sure they were functioning properly. Julia gets a little teary at this part.
“I needed a dad for five minutes,” she said.
The last night before her power was restored, Julia and Auden stayed at the Townliner Motel, a complimentary stay offered by owners Krista and Joel Gunnlaugsson, for which she said she is very grateful.
Julia said her family would like to live on the island full-time, but have been unable to find steady affordable housing past May 1.
“It was remarkable. Everything. At the Community Center, there was this older group of locals, mostly women, like this matriarchy, who were calm and helpful. They made me feel more human. I felt supported,” she said. “It was a test of motherhood. I got through an unexpected challenge with a six-month-old with the help of the community.”
Judy Baseman and Annie Rohrer
Judy Basemen is the president of the Washington Island Community Health Program and the wife of Pastor Ed Baseman at Trinity Lutheran Church. She also started and directs the church’s bell choir. Annie Rohrer is a teacher who retired to the Island a few years ago and plays in the bell choir. Both women are good friends of Kari Gordon. When Kari put the call out Sunday morning for help opening the shelter, they were the first to show up.
Worship service was cancelled at both churches on the Island due to hazardous conditions and not having electricity, Judy said. The shelter opened around 10 a.m. and “people just started coming,” she said, with food, with helpful hands, with ideas.
“We were huddled around this one table, going through the phone book,” Annie said. Between that and “everybody knowing everybody,” the women were able to put together lists of people who might need to be checked on or told about the shelter.
“I spent most of that first day running back and forth to the fire department people,” she said, coordinating check-ins and follow-ups and getting some people transported to the shelter.
The women wrote down everyone who came to give and receive help at the shelter, and sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between the two, Annie said.
“There were folks who came that maybe didn’t have power and needed someplace warm to go, and the next thing you knew, they were wiping tables and sweeping floors, taking out trash.”
The number of people who helped, who brought and cooked food, who stayed overnight to staff the shelter, who brought supplies, provided transport and so much more is too long to list, but they did try their best to keep track of everyone, the women said.
Annie was on the receiving end of that long list of helping hands during last year’s Winter Storm Cora. Her husband Darryl was at home, in hospice care when the storm hit. He was dependent on oxygen at the time.
“We just saw this outpouring,” Annie said. “People brought us food and water and the co-op is calling us and saying, what do you need? And, you know, our generator quit working, and someone brought us a generator. The ferry line arranged for us to get fuel. And we really felt that.”
Darryl died last spring. He was diagnosed with cancer only a short time after the couple had retired to the Island where they loved spending leisure time.
“To be on the other side of that was really incredible for me, personally, to get to experience helping or giving back to the community,” Annie said.
Rachelle Gonzalez
Rachelle owns and operates Percy’s Pantry convenience store, bartends at KK Fiske Restaurant, is a massage therapist and is helping launch a new Island restaurant this summer. She also sings and dances and does a mean Tina Turner impression, but her claim to true Washington Island fame is that she is Donna Russell’s niece.
Playwright, director, producer, event planner, gourmet cook, baker, radio show host, decorator, wardrobe stylist, volunteer, fundraiser–the many faces of Donna are stuff of Island legend, and her niece is certainly following in her footsteps.
Where there is a need for help, joy or organizing, Donna is there with her reliable right hand man, husband Larry, according to Rachelle, and that was no different during Winter Storm Frannie.
“Auntie and Uncle Larry commandeered the kitchen (in the emergency shelter),” Rachelle said. “I think at one point she made waffles for 50 people and five pans of egg bake.”
Rachelle kept Percy’s Pantry open extra hours because they had power during the storm and offered up the store’s mostly empty freezers to those without power. Rachelle’s brother was stuck at a cold house with strep throat, so she drove around in the ice storm looking for firewood. She also spent one overnight volunteering at the Community Center shelter and said she left feeling more connected to the community than ever before.
Becky Steffen
Becky Steffen was a relative newbie to the Washington Island Fire Department in 2024. Winter Storm Cora was the first event besides volunteer shifts and training she participated in as a department member.
“I acutely felt the responsibility on my shoulders. It was a lot. Knowing people were stuck,” she said. “The adrenaline just kept going up. I was exhausted and amped at the same time.”
From last year to this year’s Winter Storm Frannie, Becky said she is more prepared for emergencies like these as a first responder, thanks to training she has received. The two storms were also “two different beasts,” she said, though they looked very similar from the outside.
Last year, fire department members were walking power lines and clearing snow from them and they were doing door-to-door wellness checks for every residence on the Island. This year, the department performed about 150 wellness checks and only reported lines down when they spotted them.
Even the closest knit communities have tensions and frictions, but not during the recovery.
“It kinda felt like what it felt like on 9/12 (after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks),” she said. “We came together for a common goal and the recovery effort was the focus…we had the ability to adapt and overcome.”
When communities need to rely on each other Becky said, “the history between individuals gets put aside…That’s your oath. That’s your training. It’s never going to have a bearing on how you respond to someone who needs help.”
Marc Pratt
Marc Pratt’s family of four siblings, mom and dad, three dogs, three cats and various chickens lost power on March 29 when Frannie’s ice accumulation took down a big chunk of Island electrical and communication infrastructure. But Marc was not aware of all the problems being solved by the grownups. His mom and dad kept him safe and warm, and the whole family spent lots of time in the Community Center gym, where he saw friends and cousins, played games and had a steady supply of snacks.
On April 2, he turned four years old. Four was his siblings being home to play with him because school was also out of power and cancelled for two days. Four was a Paw Patrol backpack for kindergarten next year and his very own scooter. Four was his mom, Liz, baking a cake at his aunt’s house who had power and cooking his birthday meal in the Community Center kitchen. Four was dozens of neighbors, friends and relatives singing Happy Birthday to him in the gym. Four was filling water jugs, taking showers at the Community Center and seeing a big tower and interesting equipment in the parking lot. Four was kind firefighters and policemen nearby and being surrounded by calm and efficient grownups being calm. Four was his mom tearing up looking at the line of people getting meals in the gym.
Four was beautiful for Marc.