City officials warned that this would be different from Hurricane Irene. And they weren't lying. Just as we were getting comfortable in our misguided belief that Sandy was crying wolf, a neighbor looked up from the bingo game we were playing and noticed several inches of water streaming down the avenue out our living room window. In the time it took us to get down four flights of stairs the water had risen to several feet. And it didn't stop there. Soon cars were completely submerged and car alarms blared in unison until they were drowned out altogether.
In the midst of the the chaos of rushing water, the Con Edison power plant a few blocks north exploded into two massive fire balls and then a frightening hissing turned to darkness. This is when our real Hurricane Sandy experience truly began.
Today we're enjoying DAY 8 without heat, hot water or gas to cook with. Although we did get electricity back a few days ago it's really only served to illuminate - more clearly - how unbelievably cold we are.
Our local supermarket has been destroyed. As have our laundromat and countless other small and beloved business in the neighborhood. The devastation from this storm is massive and heartbreaking. We could have never imagined anything like this. And the funny thing is that we were situated in "Zone B," an area that was not deemed necessary for evacuation. Pretty sure next time we'll evacuate ourselves to Grandma's house, thank you very much.
We've had exciting adventures between Sandy's arrival and now. There was that time we took a $40 cab more than a hundred blocks for a $6 gallon of gas because every other gas station was empty and shuttered. Or the time we had to scurry out of our building into the cold because a gas leak was discovered. And oh, the hysterical discovery that non-perishables aren't so yummy when you can't warm them! And ATM's don't dispense money when they're lacking power or have been emptied. (Kind of a downer when the businesses who were able to re-open are cash only.)
And sadly, we are the lucky ones. Parts of Queens and New Jersey and nearly all of Staten Island are a pile of rubble and ruin. Stories of families - none of them with flood insurance - left with nothing but the clothes on their backs. And stories of children who were swept out of their mother's arms only to be found in a swamp three days later. Or the father and son, ages 55 and 20, found dead in their basement locked in an embrace. When compared to these accounts we have nothing to complain about.
Still, there have been some bright spots and humorous moments. For instance, we discovered that it is possible to make spaghetti on the grill! It has also been solidified that we have the best neighbors in the world. And we know with certainty that when the chips are down New Yorkers band together like nobody's business. But then, we've seen that before.
So if this post is a bit more of a downer than normal, its simply because, this sucks. It's sad, disheartening, challenging, emotionally draining, and....cold. (Did I mention that already?) But every day there is light at the end of the tunnel and we have complete and utter faith that, this too, shall pass. We have each other. All of us unharmed. A bit unhinged perhaps, but safe. And we are stronger as a family for the experience. And while Lulu has taken to drawing pictures of water and telling her dolls that she hopes the storm doesn't get us, both kids have been remarkable in their strength, good humor and blissful ignorance of the true scope of this tragedy.
Looking forward to the weeks ahead and hoping for a sunnier outlook. It'll come. But until then, its CHIN UP, McHales.
