Some of Isabel's victims still without power

RICHMOND, Va. -- Darrell Robinson thought he got hit hard when Hurricane Isabel toppled huge pines and oaks in his back yard, including one that crashed onto his roof. Then a tornado toppled the trees in his front yard five days later.

Powerless after both the hurricane and the tornado and facing at least another week in the dark, Robinson and his family have come to expect the hard times and are learning to cope with them, as are thousands of other residents from North Carolina to Maryland.

"Where's the help? That's what we're looking for," Robinson said as he, his wife, Barbara Wisniewski-Robinson, both 37, and their 6-year-old daughter, Kendra, huddled around the dining room table in their darkened brick home.

At the Robinsons' house, one massive pine crushed two of the family's cars -- half the fleet of Lasership Courier Co., Barbara's small business.

"That's my livelihood," she said.

In North Carolina, about 7,800 customers remained without power Saturday, nine days after the storm pummeled the region. When the hurricane first crossed into the state Sept. 18, more than 700,000 customers lost electricity.

Virginia's dominant utility, Dominion Virginia Power, had put 87 percent of the 1.8 million customers who lost power back online by Saturday. But it still must replace 1,000 miles of wire and 10,705 broken poles, said spokeswoman Irene Cimino.

Hardest hit

Though it had weakened significantly and was barely at hurricane strength by the time it bulled through North Carolina and into Virginia's interior, Isabel will be Virginia's most expensive natural disaster, officials say.

The storm killed 40 people nationally and left 6 million power customers without service as far north as New York.

In Engelhard, N.C., a tiny fishing village on Pamlico Sound, Edna and Frank Summerlin were coming to grips with the damage at their marina.

Isabel's powerful surge lifted a 25-foot fishing boat that was tethered to the dock and drove it into the Summerlins' cottage. It flooded their Big Trout Cafe and dozens of private trailers.

"We had just recovered from the impact of Hurricane Floyd and this happens," Frank said as tears welled in his eyes. "I just got the place looking real good."

How long the privations last for those hardest hit depends on where they live, how bad the damage is and how aggressively the government, the utilities and other relief providers get them help.

The Dominion Virginia Power's best estimate for fully restoring power is next weekend, and even then there will be exceptions, Cimino said. Where and how many are unknowable, she said.

Still without radios, televisions or even phones in some homes as of Friday, the neighborhood grapevine in an affluent area near the University of Richmond buzzed with rumors the company denies: They had run out of wire and transformers; utility linemen from other states languished in hotels, waiting to be dispatched.

Frustrations boil over in venues small and large. Callers on Gov. Mark R. Warner's monthly question-and-answer show railed against the power company, the state and the Federal Emergency Management Agency.

Just days after President Bush visited Richmond to thank FEMA workers on Monday, U.S. Rep. Randy Forbes, a fellow Republican, said FEMA and state agencies were slow getting water, ice and generators into cities and towns.

"This hurricane was only a Category 1 or less, and my big fear is what happens if we get hit with a Category 3 or, even worse, a terrorist attack," Forbes said after touring his southeastern Virginia district.

David Fukutomi, FEMA response coordinator for Virginia, said his agency has distributed more than 4.7 million pounds of ice and millions of gallons of water.

"We had disaster checks in the hands of some victims within 24 hours after the president issued the disaster declaration," he said. "This was the largest disaster mobilization in the history of the commonwealth, and we learned a whole lot of lessons from it."

In the Larchmont neighborhood of Norfolk, Va., where flood-ruined sofas, mattresses and other items molder in curbside piles, Ed Bowe, 60, is irked that a flooded tunnel has turned his 15-minute commute into a 90-minute detour.

Isabel's storm surge rushed into the empty Midtown Tunnel, nearly drowning Transportation Department workers who struggled to close its gates before the water poured in. The link shuttles 35,000 vehicles a day under the Elizabeth River between Norfolk and Portsmouth. The agency said the workers were not at fault.

"Horse manure," Bowe said, grumbling that someone should be fired over it.