Photo by iStockphoto.com/edelmar
Utility service has always been essential. During a pandemic whose spread can be slowed by handwashing, it’s even more so. Yet almost half of states have no binding protections for families in danger of having their utilities shut off. That proportion is set to rise in the coming weeks as existing moratoriums expire.
Even before this pandemic struck, an estimated 15 million people in this country -- especially low-income people and people of color -- had difficulty affording utility service. With 30 million people newly unemployed, that figure is surely skyrocketing.
Utility shutoffs take place behind closed doors. They may not be as visible as miles-long lines at food banks, but the problem they represent is no less real for the families who lack the means to cook, wash their hands, or do distance learning.
Below, we’ve collected stories of people who have been hurt by utility shutoffs. They are mothers, fathers, devoted children, construction workers, and laid-off servers -- in short, ordinary people who have been caught up in what is likely to be the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression. And if we don’t take action to preserve and extend moratoriums on utility shutoffs, there will be many more of them.
From the Texas Tribune: Texas utility regulators have programs to prevent shutoffs during the pandemic. But some Texans are falling through the cracks.
Carly Eaves, recently laid off from her job as a server at a Waffle House, mother of three, Texas: "I spent all of our money on food … That’s all that I could do. For a family of five with no income, we didn't have enough for anything else."
DeAnn Massey, working reduced hours at a cleaning company, Texas:
“Before the cutoff date, we contacted them asking if they can defer the payment. They were very rude and told my husband no,” Massey said. “We are not trying to not pay, we were trying to find an arrangement.”
On Monday morning, their power was cut off.
From The Guardian: 'It feels like nobody cares': the Americans living without running water amid Covid-19
Joshua Haynes, construction worker and father of three, Tennessee:
“It’s wrong what they did, especially with so many people out of work. I felt angry and embarrassed. I’d never missed a bill before … I had no choice but to go back to work.”
Deborah O’Barr, Tennessee:
“It feels like nobody cares. We must be the lowest of the low as far as the water company is concerned. We just don’t matter, not even during a pandemic.”
From Rapid City Journal: McLaughin mayor says town had no choice but to disconnect family's utilities
Patric White Mountain, creator of traditional Lakota artworks and regalia, father of three, South Dakota:
I’m “just trying to get by day to day,” said Patric White Mountain … “There’s a lot of big risk” of catching COVID-19 without stable housing, running water and peace of mind.
From the Huffington Post: She’s A Furloughed Single Mom Of 3. The Utility Is Shutting Off Her Power Anyway.
Toni, single mother of three, furloughed from her job at the Tennessee Valley Authority nuclear plant, Tennessee:
“It’s really stressful. I’m not going to lie, it doesn’t make you sleep good at night knowing that in a few days your kids are going to have the power off.”
From the Moberly Monitor: Despite COVID-19, dry taps enforced for unpaid bills in Clark
April Bishop, unemployed, Missouri:
“We’re under extenuating circumstances during this time of shutdown due to the pandemic,” she said. “This is a time when a lot of people like myself don’t have a job right now because a lot of businesses are temporarily closed.”
From the Huffington Post, She Begged For Mercy. The Utility Cut Her Elderly Parents’ Power Anyway.
Angela Haislip, caretaker for elderly parents in North Carolina:
“I even told them they were stroke victims, and the lady on the phone pretty much called me a liar,” said Haislip, 46, choking back tears. “It’s heartbreaking. It seems like there’s no trust in the world. People don’t care like they used to.”
On March 23, the utility sent a notice warning that service would be shut off in four days. At the couple’s mobile home, which is 14 feet by 80 feet, the lights went out at 10 a.m. last Friday.
“They still kicked them to the curb like they were nothing,” Haislip said. “It’s all about money to them. They don’t care who dies during this.”