First a zap, then dependency

A news story recently focused my attention on how dependent American society has become on electricity. There are ways to save on electricity consumption, the story said, by making sure that anything plugged in is really turned off. Most modern gizmos use power whether or not they are on.

I knew that.

But a quick survey of our house was an eye-opener. I found, for example, that the speakers on our computer can be turned on and off. Who knew? Our home computer is only turned on a few times a week, and it is turned off -- sort of -- when we're finished checking e-mail.

Many of the electrical doodads we think are essential have teensy-weensy lights that say, "You turned me off, but I'm still keeping AmerenUE happy." And some devices don't say anything at all, even though they are sipping juice while they pretend to sleep.

While I try to figure out if it's worth unplugging all those things with on-off buttons, I also happen to be age-advantaged enough to remember when there was no electricity.

Take a deep breath. I was not born in the 19th century.

The rural electric co-op put power lines through the Ozark hills over yonder and across Killough Valley in 1950 or 1951. In anticipation of the arrival of electricity, my family had the farmhouse where I grew up wired. But the power didn't come on until 1953. The biggest advantage of having power was that we could finally have a deep well with a submerged pump. No more cistern. No more hand pump. Now we could have running water in the kitchen.

We would have had running water in the bathroom too, if we had had a bathroom. But the outhouse in the orchard was in good working order. And the outdoor South Pacific shower was usable all summer. So why put in a bathroom?

Electricity also meant we could have a gas heating stove with a blower to replace the wood-burning stove.

And electricity meant we could have a yard light on the pole between the house and the outhouse. You have no idea how important this was, if you never had to rely on an outhouse.

Electrical wiring on a farm in the 1950s was basic. Each room of the house had a light fixture in the ceiling and at least one electrical outlet.

With electricity, we could have toast from a toaster, coffee from a coffee maker. We could have a washing machine on the porch that plugged in. Previously, the Maytag washer was powered by a gas motor that looked like a motorcycle engine. We could plug in our refrigerator, which was a propane refrigerator in the pre-power days.

An electric razor replaced shaving cream and razor blades. We replaced the battery-powered radio with one that plugged in. We could turn on a porch light for after-dark visitors. Our family acquired a record player.

By 1959, my family was ready to take the big plunge. We bought a TV set at Luna Hardware. We could watch every program available on KFVS.

Earlier this summer, my wife, older son and I were cleaning out my mother's house in preparation for an auction. We discovered bills and canceled checks dating back to the 1930s. What an eye-opener.

With all the comforts of 1950s electricity -- ceiling lights, toaster, razor, radio, TV, blower on the heating stove, refrigerator, deep-well pump, yard light, washing machine, porch light -- it's easy to see that we had a good start down the track of energy consumption. One month's bill? A whopping $3.87.

Yes, the decimal is in the right place.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.