Stormwatch - A Blizzard in Buffalo

The snow drifting downward from the sky in huge wet flakes were actually massive collections of individual flakes that grouped together to go on the attack and attack they did. The snow started at eleven AM and by the time Josh got to work nearly a foot has fallen on Western New York in the area south of Buffalo known as "The Snow Belt." Josh Gravely shook off his coat in the "mud room," the maintenance entrance of the Andalon.com data center where he stomped the snow off of his feet then put his coat back on. The snow is really starting to pile up out there and there's still a lot of cars still in the parking lot at 2:00 PM. Don't these people understand the meaning behind a Lake Effect Storm Warning? He headed toward his office and saw that the supervisor of the field technicians, Eli Goldman, was still in his office.

"Elijah," said Josh as he tapped on Eli's door.

"Ephraim, how is it out there?" Ephraim is Josh's first name, Ephraim Joshua Gravely, but he insists everyone calls him Josh because he hates it when they mispronounce Ephraim. He and Eli found a brotherhood in their ancient given names. Eli was raised by orthodox jews who would have preferred that their youngest son had become a rabbi instead of a "Computer Nerd." Josh was raised by strict southern Baptists who named their children from the Good Book and would roll over in their graves if they knew that their baby boy was now living in New York by choice. Explaining that Western New York isn't New York city would fall on deaf southern ears. New York is New York! He could picture the conversation:

"But ma, it's country where I live, farms and cows and logging trucks just like home. We just eat oatmeal instead of grits."

"Your father and I didn't raise no son of ours to become a jaded city boy."

Eli finally looked up from his paperwork, curly black hair, thick mustache and he was wearing a yarmulka, he probably won't be coming over for Easter dinner. But Eli did bring his wife and two kids over to Josh's place for Christmas dinner last year, as Eli said nodding to the nativity on Josh's side table, "He was a good Jewish boy." They had a good rapport and became good friends. While Eli oversaw the field technicians who worked out in the customers offices, the server team was Josh's job. He was the data hardware manager, in other words, those stacks and stacks of three to eight RU high servers busily churning up the Western New York air and spitting out binary data in the server room were all his children. "Get your people out of here Eli, it's a shit storm out there," said Josh knowing that Eli hates people swearing in his office.

"Yeah, I heard," said Eli as he folded up his laptop and stuffed it into a messenger bag. "I have all my people either finishing up jobs or heading home. How far north does this go?"

Lake effect storms are weird animals, they sweep up and down the eastern shore of Lake Erie like a giant windshield wiper from hell. They rarely hit the city of Buffalo itself, but when they do it makes national headlines. They normally hit south of the city, exactly where Josh and Eli are standing right now. "We're the center of the storm, the further north you go it gets easier, once you get north of Williamsville it's dry as a bone." Good news for Eli, he lives far north of Williamsville, he won't have to shovel his driveway, but Josh will probably be stuck in this building for a couple of days "minding the store," that's what Storm Watch is all about.

Josh is coming in late because tonight he has scheduled work that can only be done at night and when this storm whipped up, he told the boss that he'd take Storm Watch. Storm Watch is the guy who waits out the storm keeping exits clear of snow in case of a fire and can handle a server break down should one happen during the storm, and most important can ensure the backup generators are in working order.

Eli nodded. "Good, we have work up north in Niagara Country tomorrow. I'll be at the old office on Ridge Lea Road tomorrow unless this blows over..." The old office Eli mentioned should be spared from this storm. He spread the slats on the venetian blinds and looked outside for the first time since the storm started, "Oh yeah... this is not going to blow over anytime soon. Are you set for food and water?"

"I'm good, got a sack full of frozen food and Ant is going to give me the key to his office." Josh was talking about the Storm Watch security badge that the engineer on Storm Watch carried. It can open any door in the building and was controlled by Ant himself. Anthony "Ant" Friedman the founder and CEO of Andalon.com had a sweet suite with a fold out couch, 85-inch QLED with every streaming service known to man, all of the finest sci-fi on blue ray, a private full bath, and a kitchenette. Mr. Friedman said that he practically lived in his office when he started and built Andalon.com, if he has to do it again, he's going to do it in comfort. "Get going," Josh warned, "The 219 is probably packed right now." That's how they talk in Western New York. US Highway 219 is "The 219" US Highway 33 is "The thirty-three" and US Interstate 90 is "The Troo Way."

"Ok, I'm outta here," Eli announced, "Call me if you get lonely." He zipped up his jacket, wound a scarf around his neck, added a fedora for effect and was out the door with a wave.

Josh then stuck his nose into his own boss's door. Mark Post was an intense genius who was about half of Josh's age, but many long years in the military taught Josh that age is quite often just a number. Mark had an intellect that went far beyond his years, he knew every part of this network because he designed it and built it and when Josh was hired, he put his baby in Josh's hands. "Hey Mark, how's it going?" said Josh as he stepped into Mark's office

Without looking up from his four monitors, Mark held up a bright orange security badge on a bright orange lanyard. "Boss dropped this off for you."

"You need to get going Markie." Josh put the badge lanyard around his neck, "That snow's a' comin' down!"

"Is that how you say it in Georgia?" Mark asked still without looking up from his myriad of computer screens.

"No, we'd say "Gawd Dawg! It sho sucks up there. Ah'm sho glad Ah ain't in Buffalo!" Josh took the clipboard off the wall marked "Shift Turn-Over" and started looking over the to-do list.

"That bad hmm?" Mark never looked up from his monitor.

"Look, I am not going to explain to Darcy why her daddy isn't coming home tonight, you gotta get going." Just then a flash of light from outside was followed in a few seconds by a roll of thunder. Yes, they get "Thunder Snow" in Western New York and this one had perfect timing.

Mark was slowly getting up without tearing his eyes from the four monitors on his desk when the flash of lightning changed his mind. Normally Mark would stay for another hour or four, like Josh he lives just a couple of miles away, but Thunder Snow is wet, nasty, heavy stuff that clogs highways and makes side roads impassable. He started for the door as fast as he could get organized. "Ok, Saint Benedict hospital number three billing server has a drive going, also your tape monkey won't be in tonight, she already called in, so you have storm watch all to yourself," called Mark as he headed for the door pulling on his parka. "I'll be working from home tomorrow!" he yelled as the door slammed closed behind him.

"Crap," muttered Josh. He knew that there would be no "tape monkey" but he was hoping there would be a chance. It would be nice to spend a storm watch with another human being in the building. A tape monkey is a low-level employee who insures proper backup of all servers and documentation of the backup. Most of the servers backup their data to a storage server but many clients still require backup to tape and it's the tape monkey's job to catalogue and store the tapes. It's an important job but it's long, involved, and boring as all hell. The name comes from days gone by when mainframe computers backed up to huge open reel tapes and someone had to wrestle those tapes into a vault for storage. Josh left the clipboard on his desk then walked through the building urging stragglers to hurry.

The programmers were long gone before he came in, their bull pen was dark. Who was left? He walked into the sales and marketing area and there were quite a few salesmen finishing up their daily... whatever it is they do on a daily basis. Andalon.com offers a variety of computer services, from office network management to large scale data storage and wide area networks. What Josh was hired for was hospital imaging and records management, the bread and butter of Andalon.com, and since that time he's become the jack of all trades in data storage. Hopefully these marketing guys were selling the hell out of their services, this new data center was a huge risk on Ant's part.

His last swing through the building took Josh past Executive Row: three VPs, Ant's office, and Veronica. The VPs were gone already, but Veronica was still in her office clattering away on her keyboard. He tapped on her open door, "You really should go Miss van Köster, the snow is getting bad," he said softly. He scolded himself inwardly for behaving like he has a high school crush whenever he sees her... but he probably does have a crush on her. But he's punching 'way outside of his weight class, this girl had looks, smarts, elegance and a Rock on her finger that's worth more than most of his possessions combined.

She gave Josh a sweet smile, "I will Effy, I'm just finishing up." Then noticing the bright orange badge that he had slung around his neck she added, "I hope you don't get stuck in here tonight."

She called him Effy, the thought brought a smile to his face. She found out that Josh's grandmother called him that when he was young and now, when no one is around, that's what Veronica calls him. If one of his maggots in the USAF had ever called him Effy, he would have popped their head like a zit, but from her, it's sweet. Veronica van Köster is Anthony Friedman's executive assistant, but the grapevine says that she's the driving force in this company and that Ant is just her front man for business meetings. That comes from people who don't know Anthony.

Josh still thinks back to seeing Veronica at the Christmas party last year, long white dress covered with silver sparkles, plunging neckline that gave a breathtaking hint of her beautiful breasts, thick blond hair cascading over her shoulders, a smile as wide as the Niagara River and a Rock the size of Goat Island on her finger. When she danced with that fellow that she never introduced to Josh the light reflecting off that Rock blinded the whole audience. But the way they danced! Just the memory caused stirrings in Josh that he needs to suppress right now. Oh well, don't stick your nose into private business here on Executive Row he told himself.

He peeked into Ant's office. Anthony Friedman was a nice guy; he lets an old ramp rat like Josh call him Ant and to Josh that is real class. He's met far too many phonies in the military and civilian life, jerks who acted with an authority they didn't earn or deserve. Ant wasn't anything like that, Ant's mind was always spinning with business ideas. That's why he has three vice presidents, their job is to take those ideas and turn them into money, then it's Miss van Köster's job to make sure that those three VPs don't stab Ant in the back. Ant saw Josh as he approached the office door and before Josh could say a word, he raised the TV remote control. "I know, I know," he groused and turned off the TV, he was watching Dr. Phil.

"You really need to get going sir," Josh said as he helped Ant with his overcoat, "it's really starting to pile up. And take Miss van Köster with you, she's still working."

"Wouldn't I like to," he said with a sideways sneer and a wink. There's no doubt about it, Veronica van Köster is a knockout. She has a breathtaking beauty that reminds men that God still likes them, that's why he lets men see his finest workmanship. Ant tapped on her door and leaned in. "Come on Veronica, you need to go now."

"Yes sir, but...uh... the internet is out at my house, I can't work from home and you, and Mr. DePaul need to review these letters ASAP. I'll finish them up and you'll have them in your inbox before you get home." She really looked worried; these must be important letters.

"Ok, but if you're not out of here five seconds after you click send, Mr. Gravely has my permission to take you across his knee."

To add emphasis, Josh pointed to his eyes with two fingers then pointed them at her to let her know he was watching her. "That's a deal sir!" she called and gave him a bit of a smile, then went right back to work.

As Ant walked to the exit door with Josh, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder pointing at Veronica's half open office door. "That's why we're a success."

"How's that sir? This whole company is your vision, you're our success."

"Oh, that's bullshit, and you can't bullshit a bullshitter, pardon my French." he said poking Josh in the ribs. "I spout ideas all day long, so what? You do too, I've seen your suggestions, this storm watch thing, that's your idea. It's a great idea! You come up with ideas, you give them to me, I make them work. What good is an idea if it goes nowhere? My talent lies in finding the people we need to make those ideas work. Take Stanislaus Dombrowski..."

"I'd rather not, sir."

"I understand, Stan is a fucking asshole, pardon my French, but he is. And he'll admit it. But as VP of finance, he's saved this company from bankruptcy nearly half a dozen times just since you were brought on." That's not long, Josh has only been here a little over eleven months, one Christmas Party and one summer picnic... two chances to see Veronica dance. Ant continued, "Veronica runs this company, she's the mayor of Executive Row, we report to her, and she knows it, but she doesn't lord it over a soul. Just like you."

That made Josh pause. "Just like me what? ... sir."

"Just like you being Sergeant Josh. Before you started, my tech guys were like... kindergarteners. They were all over the place. They were doing what needed to be done, but they were scattered, there was no organization, they were doing what needed to be done but they were also causing more work for Mark and Eli than they could handle and making work for them is my job! You came in, got them settled down, work is fully documented now, productivity is through the roof, and Mark and Eli can work on the projects we need them to complete."

"It was super easy sir, barely an inconvenience. You just have to stab one of them, the rest see the blood and they get the idea pretty quick," Josh said that with a straight face and for a moment he was afraid that Anthony would take him seriously. They got to the door and the snow is getting really heavy. "You sure you can make it? I'd love to drive you but I'm on storm watch tonight and I can't leave," Josh said as he held the door for Anthony.

Ant tapped Josh's bright orange card on the bright orange lanyard around Josh's neck. "I'll be good," said Ant, "I can make it home ok, but are you good? Do you have food in there for a couple of days?"

"I'll be fine, I've got a shit stack of MREs just in case I get stuck, the generators are fully gassed up, and I have the key to your liquor cabinet." Josh grinned but he realized that Ant knew that Josh knows where the key is, and he'd use it if this storm gets worse. Josh also knows where Ant keeps the mixer.

"I told you about that talent of mine," he grinned, "I can find the right man for the right job. You just take care of business and I'll see you when this is over," Ant said as he headed off into the swirling snow to find his car.

Josh headed back to his cubbyhole, logged in to the network with his laptop and checked the Saint Benedict number three billing server and sure enough, drive #16 was getting ready to go. "I love hot swappable drives," said Josh as he put the bad drive in the replacement mode remotely from his laptop, then he grabbed a replacement hard drive from the parts locker.

He entered the server room and was met by the whining of over a thousand little cooling fans keeping their respective servers cool, and a blast of arctic air from the AC unit. The AC unit here is immense, if that goes out these servers will melt down, especially in a hot muggy Buffalo summer. The servers are almost identical to each other which makes a neat and orderly looking server room that investors love to see. In fact, Ant had Mark design the server room with a wall of windows so he could lead prospective clients and investors past the server room for their viewing pleasure. One of these servers had a hard drive with a flashing ID light above the bad drive and that was his target. He simply popped the old drive out, slid the new drive in, then went back to his desk to finish the job.

As he worked there were a few more rumbles of thunder. The storm was the talk of the local radio station, now he heard that Erie County Sheriff's department and the State Troopers had issued a travel ban for any road from the south of West Seneca to the Pennsylvania state line, which was right where he was sitting. Josh chuckled remembering Ant call this building the Buckle of the Snow Belt, he's not going anywhere for sure. Back to work, he logged into the server and started up the hard drive replacement routine, the server formatted the drive then starting writing to it, it should be fully up in under an hour with no loss of productivity to Saint Benedict hospital over a hundred miles away. Josh has just enough time to verify the building was empty one last time before calling this job done and closing out the paperwork.

One last walk through the building showed that sales and marketing were all gone, all outside doors secure, all offices empty, and all lunches left in the fridges are now property of Josh Gravely. He went to the main door and looked out, it was really coming down, big wet flakes. The sky now had a tan look to it which told Josh that these were low hanging clouds, the kind that dump literal tons of snow. God how he hates early winter storms, and winter is still weeks away. There was a background hiss just at the edge of audibility, which was the sound of millions of wet, heavy snowflakes hitting the ground.

Josh grabbed a shovel and began to clear the sidewalk. He didn't expect anyone to come in, but if there is a weary traveler caught in the storm, he wanted a safe haven for them and a clear entry way. Primarily though he wants a clear exit in case there's a fire. As he scraped the snow he saw the imprint of high heeled boots in the snow, the prints were heading to the parking lot, they had to be Miss van Köster's footprints as all others were long since filled in from the storm. He paused and looked off towards Five Rod Road to see if he could see any traffic out there, but the only thing that he could see was Miss van Köster's Lincoln Navigator SUV in the parking lot.

Josh had shoveled another ten feet of sidewalk before his brain kicked into gear. Her office was empty, her footprints are here, her car is there... SHIT! He better check the car. Chances are good that she didn't want to drive and had someone come pick her up, it happens all the time, but he had to check. He kept saying that to himself as he walked through the foot of snow up to the beautiful SUV (the perfect machine for the perfect woman he thought) and wiped the snow off the driver side window. He peered in and there she was.

She was staring at the steering wheel, but she had that look that Josh had seen in the face of men before, it was as if she was looking at something a mile away while her eyes were locked on the steering wheel in front of her. In World War Two they called it the 2,000 Yard Stare, looking 2,000 yards in a 20-foot room. Josh remembered some dumbass movie where a character practically bragged about having the 2,000-yard stare. If you can say you have the 2,000-yard stare, then you don't have it, and that's a fact. If you have it, you are incapable of doing almost anything else. Josh lifted the door handle, but the door was locked. He knocked on the window and called "Miss van Köster!" but she didn't answer. He knocked with his bare knuckles and still no response. He needs something harder.