Post-storm scenes

Police Department since 2000, was working a 12-hour shift scanning the northernmost streets of the resort town for things amiss.

In the first hour of a circuit that started around 4 p.m. Saturday, DeGiovanni had collected an errant real estate yard sign that threatened to cause injury if swept up by a strong gust; wrestled with a 40-foot accordion of styrofoam insulation that was left behind a restaurant under construction; checked his backyard fence (he said it always falls over in heavy rain); and called in a downed stop sign by the dunes.

Back to the "suspicious vehicle." The head and tail lights of the silver Grand Prix were on. The car was parked in a turn-around outside a boarded-up house. Looters? DeGiovanni wondered.

DeGiovanni stepped out into the stinging rain and held his cap to his head with one hand while feeling the hood of the car, to see if the engine was still warm, with the other. The wind whipped around him. He took out his flashlight and peered inside the vehicle. He ascended the steps to the house on stilts and knocked on the door.

A young woman with dark hair, wearing a tank top and black leggings, emerged. They talked. She came down to the car, barefoot, opened the door and turned off the lights.

A soaked DeGiovanni hopped back into the SUV looking slightly disappointed.

"They decided to stay for the storm and just forgot to turn off their headlights," he said.

Then, over his crackling walkie-talkie, came the command center again.

"We've got a request from the [National] Guard for some duct tape," dispatch said. "They've got some leaks."

—Steve Kilar

'Free firewood' in Roland Park

Roland Park neighbors Steve Lauria and Claude Edeline took matters into their own hands Sunday morning when high winds toppled an oak tree and a maple tree, blocking Keswick Road. Using a 30-inch bow saw, Lauria cut off several branches, which he and Edeline then hauled out of the road. It was slow going.

Then just before 11 a.m., the cavalry rode to their rescue. A city Department of Transportation front-end loader rumbled up from University Parkway, supported by crews in three pickup trucks. The loader needed several passes but was able to push the tangle of trunks and limbs onto the sidewalk so cars could pass.

A supervisor told residents a tree service would come out later to cut up and haul away the downed trees. In the meantime, Lauria quipped, "there's a lot of free firewood for anyone willing to get it."

—Scott Calvert

On the hunt for coffee

It's 8 a.m. Sunday, and there's no power and no java at home. Zeke's whole beans make improvising impossible.

First stop: the Royal Farms Store at Joppa and Thornton roads. It's dark, not a glint of light in the window, no smell of fresh brew wafting out the doors. Starbucks at Charles and Bellona is also without power. At 9:30 a.m., the Dunkin Donuts at Cold Spring Lane and Falls Road is filled to the brim and the line is starting out the door. At 11:30 am, On the Hill in Bolton Hill is so full it may not take many more people. But at 2 p.m. in the Towson Town Center, there is success. And only one other person in the long line seems to have a home without electricity.

For those addicted to lattes, straight black shots or even a regular old cup, the search for coffee the day after the storm seemed to take all day.

Lowery Adams sat in the sun, iced coffee in hand, outside the Starbucks at Towsontown Boulevard and York Road around 4:30 p.m., when the storm seemed a long time ago. "It is nice and cool, especially now that the sun is out," she said.

The morning for her and her father had been a series of coffee dead-ends, relieved shortly before 11 a.m. when they found satisfaction in Mt. Washington.

"He got his coffee. He was much more manageable after that," she said.

—Liz Bowie

Silver Spring residents without power take to the outdoors

Electricity and cable were out in parts of Silver Spring, and people took advantage of the sunny, breezy day to walk, run and bicycle after spending much of Saturday cooped up and worried. Along Sligo Creek, residents walked and jogged on the path and skipped stones in the water, while the roadway was blocked by workers cutting up and moving an uprooted tree.

"This morning when I got up, there were pieces of wood all over the place," said Isaura Gonzales, as she walked on the path not far from her home. "I removed some. But some I have to wait for the condo people. I can't move them, they are too big."

Charlene Blaine surveyed the scene in her Indian Spring neighborhood, part of which was without electricity. "I'm getting out of the house," she said. "We're without power.

She said she was surprised by how little damage she saw.

"I'll be glad to go to work tomorrow," she said. "Maybe they have electricity."

And air conditioning? "Oh yes, amen."

—Andrea Siegel