The Empire State Building as seen from my darkened neighborhood.
For those who can remember, Hurricane Gloria was supposed to have been the "Storm of the Century". Turned out it wasn't. Instead, neighbors hung up "Welcome Gloria!" signs and blasted Laura Brannigan out of their windows as part of their hurricane preparedness. Fortunately for all of us, the damage was confined to a few empty bottles and a nasty hangover.
I thought about that in the aftermath of Sandy. The contrast between feeling as if nothing could penetrate our indestructible city and watching with disbelief as it does. Our collective shock was matched only by a persistent fear of what was to follow. So unprecedented was the damage and scope, it left all of us utterly stunned. Conversations the next day were limited to anxious exchanges about our new reality. No heat, no power, no subways. Few had prepared. Flashlights, batteries, and ice all disappeared from stores the next day. Restaurants had lines so long it was hours before you could get food. The information coming out of the Mayor's office wasn't any better. No estimates of when the electricity would be restored, only statements about the extensive damage and the work that had to be done. My neighborhood in Chelsea was not only ominously dark, but half empty as most of the neighbors left the rest of us behind for more congenial places to sleep. I had the foresight to buy flashlights, batteries, and candles, but with no hot water, chili in a can for dinner, and a general feeling of forsakenness, it was anything but comforting. The black out zone is just that. Pitch black. With only a flashlight to guide you, the streets now feel like an unending canyon of hulking tombstones.
Truth is we approached Hurricane Sandy feeling brazenly immune, which made the reality of Sandy so profoundly disturbing. There is a certain controlled chaos to New York, but because everything is so tightly interwoven and dependent on the other, when one part is dismantled the domino effect that follows is catastrophic. Yes, we will recover, but I was starkly reminded how close I came to suffering something much worse. The site of an apartment building whose front facade collapsed and fell to the ground below, leaving a pile of rubble on the sidewalk and exposing the belongings of the tenants inside like a bizarre dollhouse of monstrous proportions. I have no idea if anyone was in the apartment when the wall collapsed but can scarcely imagine what the experience must have been like. My own sense of panic hit me when the electricity went off in my apartment. Wind gusts of over 60 mph pounded the windows, and the mile or so I lived from the Hudson River hadn't worried me earlier in the day until I saw the East River flooding Stuyvesant Town on my twitter feed. A neighbor of mine knocked on my door in her own panic and together with a few stranded friends we huddled around a candle lit coffee table listening to the sounds of flying objects outside the window.
As I write this, I am taking showers at a friend's apartment on the upper west side, but I am still sleeping in a dark unheated apartment in an empty neighborhood that has an apocalyptic feel to it at 3:00 am in the morning. Our days revolve around announcements from the Mayor's office hoping to hear good news. Limited subway service began working today but the crowds are beyond what even this seasoned subway rider is willing to tackle. While I realize I am fortunate to have escaped any damage to my apartment, or worse, electricity, heat, hot water, and normal subway service can't come soon enough for me.
Peace Out ~~
Sat Nov 03, 2012 at 1:28 PM PT: UPDATE: Power came on yesterday to lower Manhattan a little after 5:00 pm! Cheers and applause in the streets! Best quote on my twitter feed:
It's great having electricity again. I even fell asleep with the lights on!
Also, I want to give the Mayor's office a big shout out for really stepping up in my neighborhood. The last two nights they sent light trucks at major intersections, a heavy presence of patrol cars, and tireless police officers directing traffic and pedestrians.
My thoughts go out to those who are still suffering and I wish them the best. Good Luck!