This Side Up

Found in the cloud

By John Howell
Posted 2/23/16

We’ve all had it, that feeling of complete frustration, if not desperation, when for whatever reason your computer or your cell phone gives up the ghost as well as everything you had in it. Wiped …

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This Side Up

Found in the cloud

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We’ve all had it, that feeling of complete frustration, if not desperation, when for whatever reason your computer or your cell phone gives up the ghost as well as everything you had in it. Wiped away is contact information, saved emails, pictures you treasured, and months, if not years, of records and work. And invariably it happens at the worst time.

Just if you’d had a minute more before that crack of thunder, you could have saved what you had almost finished before the lights flicked and the power died. Just if you had backed up the hard drive, which you kept telling yourself you should do, before that inner whining on your laptop started and it died. Just if you had remembered your cell phone was in your pants pocket before you took that impetuous plunge – a stupid dare, mind you – into the pool.

Just if!

Carol didn’t even get a “just if” moment. She followed instructions that popped up on her Chromebook when she logged in to get her mail, and then it happened. Everything was gone – even the presentation she had planned to make that day.

She made phone calls starting with the family and then appealing to friends when our suggestions didn’t pan out. Somehow she got through to our son, Jack, halfway around the world in Hong Kong. He thought she had been sucked into some scam and now a lot of information was in the hands of someone.

Was this much more than personal data lost in cyberspace? Was somebody looking to steal her identity? Would she have to make calls to credit card companies and take additional steps?

Jack walked her through establishing a new Gmail account and routing all mail sent to her old address to the new one. She was feeling better, although there seemed to be no way of recovering all her lost work. I heard the frustration in her voice when she called to report how her trip was going. And when she got back on Saturday I heard the full story.

I tried to give it a positive spin.

“Now that it’s happened and there’s nothing to do, don’t you feel relieved in a way?”

She thought for a moment, “You mean like cleaning out the refrigerator?”

“Well, I suppose like that. You know, having a clean slate.”

“But all those contacts. It’s going to take forever.”

I knew this wasn’t convincing.

“Well, let’s see what we can do.”

Carol was appreciative, but my efforts to log into the old account took us nowhere. Her contacts were in the cloud, and for all I knew the clouds had blown away. Still, she wasn’t resigned to a contactless fate. Sunday morning she emailed our three kids with a renewed plea for assistance. I thought it was futile but kept the opinion to myself.

Not five minutes later, the phone rang. It was Jack on Skype from Hong Kong. Carol was thrilled. He had researched the problem and thought that perhaps instead of a scam Google had picked up that she was logging into a hotel server and as a security measure sent her protective procedures. He was on the phone with her for at least a half hour. Just from the tone of her voice I could tell they were making headway. He had accessed her records. They had retrieved her contacts and months, if not years, of work. She was ecstatic. The cloud was back and it wasn’t black. Suddenly the mood, and the day, was uplifting. Everything had changed.

“Shall we clean the fridge?” I suggested.

“A great idea,” she said.

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