But a check with neighborhoods in every part of the city also showed that the spirit was also universal: The challenge was surmountable with determination, good humor, self-reliance and cooperation.

Here's a look at how people in some Tulsa neighborhoods were dealing with this week's ice storm disaster.

Stacy Lynn: Amid a backyard cluttered with the remnants of a fallen oak tree, Bob Helton and son-in-law Ben McBroom stood strong, a pair of military brothers-in-arms.

"Ex-Marine, ex-Ranger, we're not worried," Helton, a Vietnam War veteran and former U.S. Army Ranger, said of the worst power outage in Oklahoma history.

Moments earlier, the two had climbed onto the roof of Helton's home to push large limbs to the ground.

The branches were courtesy of a 40-foot oak, which toppled onto the house Monday morning. McBroom remembers the moment vividly.

"You should have heard it go off," said McBroom, a Marine who was deployed during Operation Enduring Freedom. "It sounded like thunder. It just popped."

The impact took down a fence, broke a skylight and damaged a sunroom. Helton's countenance, however, escaped without a scratch.

"There are a lot of people in worse shape than we're in," he said. "We've got our health. We just need to hang in."

McBroom, his

Warmed by burners from a gas stove, the family has read books to the children to keep occupied.

"It's actually nice that we've been able to spend a lot of time with each other," McBroom said.

Looking at a backyard strewn with limbs, Helton hardly seemed a man in panic.

"If nothing else, we'll start a fire out here in back and gather around it like the old days," he said.

Carbondale: Don Halbert and his father, Jerry Halbert, spent two days helping clear brush from the yards of six nearby homes.

He helped uncover a neighbor's car so that man could get to his cancer treatments. Several elderly neighbors were trapped in their homes with no power.

"We just needed to go and help out," said Don Halbert. "A lot of people can't get out to do this."

Two of the Halbertses' neighbors went to their house Wednesday to pull a tree off the roof. The group cut as much with chain saws as possible before attaching a chain from the main tree trunk to the back of a pickup truck.

Burning tire rubber temporarily saturated the air as the tree slid off the roof and into the yard.

"We're all just helping each other out," said neighbor Leo Rangel. "These guys have been fantastic. It's only right to come and help them."

About three blocks east, Richard and Rhonda Talmage were surveying their damage and trying to pick up what they could.

"I'm just looking for the safest place to start pulling them off," said Richard Talmage. "We haven't seen too many people out around here. One guy was driving by and helped me move some limbs from the street."

A power line was exposed in their backyard, and downed trees pushed against the fence.

"We're going to do it all ourselves unless a miracle comes our way," said Rhonda Talmage.

All but one of their neighbors are staying in the homes to wait out the power outage. Some have fireplaces but many are warming themselves with gas heat, space heaters and quilts.

"We're just all camping out at home," said Richard Talmage. "I see the workers are up the street, so at least they are starting here."

Swan Lake: Nearly half a week without electricity was enough for Annette Farinella. By Wednesday morning, she was packing for a trip to Independence, Kan., where she will stay with her boyfriend, Peter Ellenstein.

"In the dark last night, it kind of had a romantic mystery to it," said Ellenstein, who arrived Tuesday in Tulsa. "Today, it just looks like a war zone."

Downed tree branches lined the street in front of the homes of Taylor Keen and Mark Lobo. Lobo with bow saw and Keen with chain saw, they took to the neighborhood in a steady rain, cutting their way out of the mess.

"It's so dangerous on the street," Keen said. "I had to dive out of the way of a limb."

Around Swan Lake itself, geese honked amid the hum of generators. People trying to make their way around the body of water were greeted by drooping power lines and streets blocked by huge timber.

When Brenda Laizure's power was zapped early Monday morning, she, her husband, Tony, and 16-year-old daughter, Maddi, traveled to McAlester, home of her parents, to try to find a motel room.

When that failed, it was back to Tulsa.

"I think we're just numb to the whole thing," Brenda said. "It's like, 'What do we do next?' "

Most of the residents on her side of the street have sought shelter elsewhere, she said. With the help of a generator, the Laizures are toughing it out.

Maddi will be ready for a return to Booker T. Washington High School next week. She's been doing her chemistry homework.

"We have our beds by the fire," Brenda said. "It's like 'Little House on the Prairie.' "

Valley View Acres: The streets are empty except for a few children walking.

Utility trucks are seen passing by after meeting at a staging area just outside the neighborhood on Cincinnati Avenue.

Jerry Verner decided Wednesday morning that he needed to get out of his house and help others.

He started at his father-in-law's house, where limbs covered the yard and a tree was resting on top of a truck in the driveway.

His friend Allen McCombs brought over a chain saw, and they got to work.

"I looked around and thought, 'Hell, let me see what is going on around here,'" Verner said. "This is quite a job here."

Ira Reddick, Verner's father-in-law, helped stack limbs in a pile in his front yard. He has checked on his neighbors, who are toughing out the cold in their powerless homes.

"They are all surviving, but it's hard," Reddick said. "It's still pretty bad up here. Today is a good day to get out and try to get some things done.

''It could've been worse."

After they finished the yard, Verner and McCombs decided to call it a day.

"As bad as it is, everybody should be working together on this," Verner said. "It's the only way things are going to get done."

Southern Hills: Headlamp around her neck and in fleece jacket and gloves, Virginia Nolan, 79, stepped out of her unheated home, determined to do something about the tree limbs littering her yard.

"It's so widespread," said Nolan, who has lived in Southern Hills since the early 1970s. "Usually, it hits in little areas."

A toppled tree blocks her driveway, and barking dogs peek out from a front window.

A live power line snapped in the backyard of Nolan's daughter, Caroline Nolan, earlier in the week, sparking a tree fire that damaged a fence. So five of Caroline's dogs were transported to her mother's house, where they joined Virginia's two schnauzers.

"It helps keep the room warm," Caroline said later in a telephone interview. "I told everybody it really gives credence to a three-dog night. There are little blessings in it."

Virginia said crossword puzzles were keeping her busy.

"I'm getting by the best I can," she said. "I'm doing fine I suppose. I just go by the light switch every minute trying to turn it on, thinking it will work."

Just across Harvard Avenue, Julie Clanton spoke of the "culture shock" of coming back to frozen Oklahoma after spending a weekend in Austin, Texas, where the temperature had topped 75 degrees.

Clanton, who lives in Owasso, lost electricity on Sunday and sought refuge at her mother-in-law's Southern Hills home, which has power.

"I've never seen anything like this in all my years," Clanton said as her two children, Jacob, 10, and Rachel, 8, moved broken tree limbs to the curb.

The heavy layer of ice that fell in her Turtle Creek neighborhood crushed the family's dog house and dramatically altered her mature trees.

"They're mostly just trunks now," she said. "I love Owasso. I want to go back."

Rhett Morgan 581-8395
rhett.morgan@tulsaworld.com

Ginnie Graham 581-8376
ginnie.graham@tulsaworld.com