Storm Of The Century

They say things like this all the time. "Storm of the Century!" the headline will say. Or "Biggest snowfall of the decade!" or "Worst storm of the year." Usually Steve and I will glance at each other and then snort. "It's only January," we'll say. Or "it's 2010. The decade / century has just begun. HOW do they know?"

People seemed really hyped up about Sandy. There was a lot of giggling, a lot of eye rolling. People made jokes about not needing to stock up (I've still got all my stuff from Irene that I never used!) and people complained about the universe being out to ruin Halloween.

We braced for the storm. I expected a few downed branches. Maybe another fallen tree. We expected to lose power - I mean, let's face it, we lose power every few months. I got out all the flashlights. Steve bought gas for the generator. We charged up out electronic devices, our ipads, our computers, our phones.

I expected, in my self-centered, ego-centric world, that we would get the worst of the storm. We love in the country. There are trees. We always get the worst of the storm. At least compared to most of the people we knew.

It rained. The wind blew.

Facebook lit up with people updating the world on when they lost power.

And then the news sites started showing photographs of floating cars and waves hitting people.

A few daredevils I know posted pictures of an optimistic Atlantic Ocean. One picture was from a car that got soaked in salt water seconds later. One picture was of a plywood dam, taken from a second floor window which no longer exists.

Most of our town lost power. The kids were out of school for three days, and Halloween was postponed for the second year in a row. (The Universe Hates Halloween.)

We did not lose power.

Oh, there was a moment when the lights went out, and I called out "This is it, guys!" and then, twenty seconds later, the lights came back on. And they stayed on.

I wish I could say the same for my family.

My parents were evacuated out of their NYC apartment when a crane collapsed nearby. They don't know how to dismantle the crane (it was a tall one, building a lovely eyesore skyrise,) and everyone is afraid it will simply fall and crash into nearby buildings. The trouble is, in the hurry to get out, someone was left behind - a small, tail-less cat named Cinder.

The building is now padlocked. Jamie could not get in to retrieve the cat, and was told it would be 4-5 weeks before they'd be let back in. He led the  Save Cinder! movement until someone directed him to the back of the building, where they let people in small numbers (five) so that they might collect pets and other important items. Medication. Coats. Computers.

So my parents are refugees, as is my brother.

Areas have been flooded. Public transportation is broken, due to flood damage in the subway tunnels. Linda is without heat, running water, electricity. She says people are plugging cell phones into every outlet they can find - at banks, at the posts of some building (was it the library?)

Remember the boat? Steve's boat? Well, I don't think I ever posted about this, but Steve sold the boat, just a few weeks ago. Which turns out to be kind of lucky. Because the boat was totaled in the storm. Another boat broke from it's mooring and smashed into her. I feel bad, though, for the guy who bought her. He is from South Jersey, and although his insurance will more than cover the cost of the boat, he and his wife lost their home in the storm.

I'm getting all over the place, here. The thing is, there has been a major disruption. And so much damage. I feel horrible, and helpless, and wish I could do something.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that things get back to normal soon. I'm hoping that damage is easily repaired. I'm thinking of my family and of the so many many people who has lost so much. And reminding myself that we never know what this storm will bring, or the next.