Sandy

Halloween comes early!

October 29, 2012 the U.S. east coast experienced a near-Apocalypse by the name of Hurricane Sandy. She was so fierce she was renamed superstorm, frenkenstorm, storm of the century and so on. On December 31, 2012 this was my New Year Greeting:

Dear Friends and Family, 

As we ring out the old and ring in the new, my family and I wish you and yours a wonderful new year!

Year 2012 was filled with many "first-ever's" for us. For instance, one very unladylike lady named Sandy showed up unannounced at our door step on Monday, October 29 night and swept everything off its feet on our ground floor and on her way out helped herself to both our cars in the drive way. She also left us in the dark for two weeks, and shivering in subzero temperatures for another week. But nothing like adversity to build character--everyone's, including the haves' who chose to help out the have not's--and force us to be at our creative peak. A big “thanks” to both our friends and strangers alike who were there for us during our dark days. Each act of kindness is something I will probably never be able to repay. May your 2013 be as wonderful as 2012 if not more.

Even while enjoying the ducks and the swans in the Grand Canal a mere 30 yards from my home, I am still dealing with the self-important Sandy's unexpected handiwork. So my blogging, even about Sandy (sorry, Sandy), and other such frivolous activities are on hold for now. 

Carpe Diem!

This kind of sums up Sandy’s visit and I could leave it at that but then again, how those affected managed under dire circumstances must be recorded and mine is just one more story told in the first person.

We knew Sandy was on her way but having never experienced anything more than strong winds and a loss of a couple of shingles on the house and a couple of trees in the three decades that we have lived in our house, we had no idea what anything stronger in terms of nature’s unpredictable behavior would be like. Having experienced Irene from August of 2011, this time round I did keep less items in our fridges (one large, and two small) and freezer. In some ways, this was a smart move. On the other hand, during the days when nothing was open in town because almost all businesses had been destroyed, even some frozen meals could have come in handy. Some angelic friends, who had not been hit by Sandy and had opened up their homes and refrigerators to us, would have stored some of our food. I could have even shared my food with them. Anyway, this was the least of our problems.

In some ways, I am such an optimist that around 8 p.m. October 29 when the downstairs lost power, instead of thinking I’d lose power upstairs as well, I imagined that my downstairs would have light back shortly. In reality what happened was a green glow accompanied a menacing hum enveloped the outside even as my smart phone in my vest pocket warned us to get out of the house. I thought that the green lights belonged to the Martians who were on their way to earth or there were helicopters above head ready to rescue us. In reality, what happened was we lost power upstairs as well. Now there was nothing more to do but to ignore the warning and simply watch the street turn into a river the water being supplied by the Grand Canal a hundred feet from our home. Now the smart phone warned us not to leave the house. The monstrous winds whipped up the water and the ripples shimmering under the street lights were a beauty to behold. Strangely at no point did we feel fear. Everything seemed like such a passing phenomenon. It’s been nine weeks now, and the neighborhood, the city, the state, the region are all still reeling from Sandy’s aftermath. 

Even as we watched from our darkened bay window the river flowing in front of our house and saw our two cars slowly submerging (never knew that water would rise high enough to enter the cars nor what happened when such a thing happened) we were still not fully aware of the impact it was going to have on our possessions. As we commented about oh, how we had seen stronger winds, and how this time we were more prepared because we had bought sand bags to block our garage door and the sliding door downstairs and had enough batteries if we ran out of them, and enough candles, and how  if the past was any indication (after Irene we were without power for two and a half days, the longest ever we were without electricity) the power still would be restored within a few days, and were prepared to ride it out with an upbeat attitude, we noticed our neighbor across, Larry’s car make some acrobatic moves like turning itself around and changing positions in his driveway. Soon we saw two cars leave, one an SUV, pull out of the driveway and wade through the water away from the canal. I became concerned that Larry was possibly showing poor judgment. My first thought was he and the family could get electrocuted by downed electrical wires. I wondered if they were headed to a relative’s home at the moment less vulnerable to Sandy.

While this was the scene from our living room upstairs, the scene downstairs unbeknownst to us was changing rapidly. The large den was turning into a mini swimming pool. To this day, I cannot figure out why it didn’t occur to us that we were losing our possessions quite rapidly. The only thing that I thought of saving when the water was still ankle deep was the modem which was on the floor. I ran downstairs and placed it a higher level. Later, it turned out that the modem had already been damaged. Ultimately, the water rose to about two feet which we detected the next day from the water mark. After a certain point all we could do was go to go to bed and the next morning when we woke up miraculously like the parting of the Red Sea, the water in the house had receded completely.

Assessing the damage:

October 30, a.m.

In the large den, almost all objects had shifted except for the two very large display and storage units and the large sofa set. Even the heavy solid wood round designer table with a “leaf” was on its side and the round protective glass was missing having floated away.

The first thing we did was try to start the cars. No luck. So first we had to contact our dealers. There was no phone nor was there any signal on the cell phone though the battery operated palm-sized transistor radio blared away the extent of the damage in the hardest hit neighborhoods. We decided to go looking for a hot spot. In the parking lot of the shopping center down the block, a military SUV was idling with three coast guards sporting rifles which made you feel like you were at war. They had no cell phones on them. So they could not help us out. So we walked further but as the traffic lights did not work did not want to risk our lives trying to cross the street to get to the other side where there is a Star Bucks which normally has Wi-Fi. The word “normal” had removed itself from our vocabulary for the next several days.  Everything was in ruins. The parked cars in the shopping lot deceptively looked parked. Indeed, they were parked but not by shoppers but the previous day by home owners who had thought that the parking lot was on higher ground and so their cars would be safe from Sandy. They were not. The parking lot was basically a grave yard for the cars that I came to know later as “totaled” the term used by the insurance companies. A quarter million cars in the region had been totaled.

Sandy’s impact was quite random. A friend who lives one block from Atlantic Ocean on Shore Road experienced zero damage to his cars or house yet those who live miles away were affected. While the ocean itself might have behaved the side canals and the bay had behaved badly. Most were caught unaware. Even the authorities were so focused on life that they never advised people on what else could go wrong. Indeed, possessions are just stuff but still a bit more preparedeness might have saved a lot of people a lot of heartache.

As we approached the Alhambra Apartment complex drive way, I waved to an elderly couple in a car. They ignored me but right behind them was an SUV with a prematurely balding young man. He lowered his window and I asked him if he could take us to Rockville Center, the next town which is where he was going. There was power in Rockville Center, an incorporated village unlike my town which was not and thus was at the mercy of the Long Island Power Authority that services nearly a million homes on the island. More than half of its customer base had lost power and in our case, we got power back after 14 days. So did most others whom I knew about.

Anyway, just at the border of Oceanside and Rockville Center I detected signal on my cell phone. First thing I did was to contact my car dealer. Even the dealer had been affected. So I phoned AAA. Barry (it turned out he was my older son’s classmate in elementary school and had even come to my home as a kid) used my phone to phone his grandparents and left a message. His phone didn’t have enough charge. Later, he dropped us back at the 7-Eleven about half-a-mile from home. B wanted hot coffee. Only when we were inside the store was it clear that there was no hot coffee. We walked back home taking in the mayhem and the changed landscape. A decorative resin rabbit seemingly had floated away. It had landed at a street corner. I picked it up and brought it home. I didn’t think its owner would miss it.

Once we returned home, we began to assess the damage once again. Nothing “looked” damaged but everything had been. Apparently, once sea water touches anything, particularly wood, one simply had to discard everything. I was shocked when I heard that even the walls had to come down. I just could not imagine my six-year-old custom-made my pride and joy wall book cases getting discarded. Later, much to my relief, I learned that only four feet from the floor had to be pulled down and rebuilt. This still meant all the wood paneling in the den. By now (losing my dad two years ago might have done it), I had become quite mature about loss. What bothered me more was the nightmare of rebuilding and all the related decision making.  In fact, the rebuilding (not quite a nightmare as I feared nonetheless still stressful and time consuming) began on the 24^th and hopefully will be done soon. Hope another Sandy or anything similar never shows up ever again. This may just be wishful thinking as experts are predicting worse climatic conditions. Oh, the thrill of living close to danger!

Anyway, on the 30^th the neighborhood looked like a war zone and the people, like zombies, walking around in a daze not quite fully aware yet of what had just hit them. An “apocalyptic” disaster like this leaves its imprint for many years to come. So there was no real rush to take it all in yet. In fact, it was the recovery that would illustrate the true extent of the loss.  In fact, writing this blog after nearly three months is making it even more incredulous. In the immediate aftermath, one is focused on yes, the immediate concerns. On the 30^th, the immediate concerns were: How to get mobile again, where to eat, how to deal with no power, no phone, no heat, no hot water all while the outside temperature hovered around in the upper 30’s and less at night and the body had not become accustomed to cool temperatures yet. On the 30^th the first priority was to start salvaging what we could and dumping what we couldn’t and hold on to stuff that possibly could be salvaged or somehow had to be. Some in the neighborhood were siphoning off the gas from their damaged vehicles into canisters to be sued in their new ones whenever they got them. I too was tempted to do this what with our cars with full tanks of gas. B the man of great wisdom that I am married to voted me down saying sea water in the gas would have made it unusable. 

It was so ironic that engulfed in so much loss, we were still trying to save every bit we could and wherever we could, not that this would have made a bit of difference in anyway in terms of any gain. Some of the furniture dumped at the curb were in such good condition yet not advisable to use any of them. The first things I got my hands on were our wedding and other albums from way back and our love letters and my college and university diplomas and transcripts and my dissertation (it was a relief that a copy exists at the Library of Congress).  I just found out that I have to pay about $50 for a bound copy. Not bad.

The list of damaged items I sent to the insurance company about a month ago (the adjuster himself had come in only on November 19 and I was away between November 25-December 5. The originally assigned adjuster had got sick and left New York for good) contained nearly 120 items starting with my large L-shaped Queen sleeper sofa-set to my computer to several other valuable objects. The AAA mechanic tried starting our cars and declared them total. The next focus for us was to find rentals.

On the 30^th we managed with food we had in the fridge.

October 31,

My first project for the day was to reach our insurance companies. An organized man, my husband gave me the policy numbers, etc. and I stepped out searching for signal on my cell phone. Later, it turned out that my husband’s simple phone had better signals than my smart phone. This is usually the trouble with sophisticated gadgetry. They are high-maintenance. Miraculously, I was able to connect with my insurance companies. I informed the reps at the other end that my phone signal was intermittent and so would they please speed up the process. They did their best, were very sympathetic and helped out in an appropriate manner. Armed with claim numbers, triumphantly, I returned home. A bit later, we decided to go look for a place to charge our phones and look into car rentals. The rental place in our town had been flooded and was closed. My first instinct was to drop in on my friend Perry at my Chase Bank and also charge my pone there. When lady luck seems to have turned back on you is when you feel the need for companionship of friends the most.  I was shocked to see that the branch itself had been victim to Sandy as well as to looting. The ATM had been ripped of its place and was lying on the floor wrapped in mangled cords and wires. In a state of disbelief, my husband and I moved on.

Around the corner, a lone hair salon was open and I stepped in looking for a wall outlet. A woman clearly dressed for success wearing boots and carrying a broom in hand informed me that Park Avenue in Rockville Center (RVC) had power on. We decided to walk nearly three miles to RVC. Along the way, we witnessed many interesting sights and took in several interesting stories. One lithe woman in her 40’s probably from Vermont Avenue began pouring her heart out. Nobody was a stranger after Sandy. We were all one big family trying to be there for each other in whatever shape, size or form. Her house nowhere near water had been flooded very badly. She was heartbroken. A neighbor two houses away had been lucky. She lamented that she had bought a model house and who knew what shoddy material the developer had used? Most houses on that block were at least thirty years old!  

As we walked along Long Beach Road, here and there at the bus stops were one or two people waiting for the bus. I didn’t think any buses were plying most of them coming from Long Beach, which was probably completely destroyed by Sandy.  

We headed toward our friend Talatis’ home in RVC. During Irene they had opened up their home to us. As we approached their house, a snugly and stylishly dressed heavy set tall woman walking her dog said something in a thick accent which I couldn’t quite hear clearly. When asked if she was from that neighborhood she smugly answered, “No, I am from Russia.” I couldn’t believe my ears. No wonder her fur-lined winter boots were so perfect for the weather that day. Then with a snicker she added, “This is America!” as her white poodle strained at the leash. Skirting downed wires, B and I moved on and came upon a massive, uprooted tree arched across the street like a straddling giant. To me a frequent traveler, it was a Kodak moment. My husband posed before the arch and I clicked my cell phone. Soon, another family strolling by did the same thing the kids’ fingers forming rabbit years above the other kids’ heads. Our friend was not home. Later, when we did meet up with them during our long hiatus seeking the warmth of their home and their help (we washed our clothes in their house a couple of times and partook a few delicious meals), we learned that Daksha’s asthma flared up due to the extreme cold of the house and so they had vacated the house. Apparently, their window pane had shattered.

Next, we passed by a dentist’s house everything intact. I don’t think he had power though. Lucky for his patients or maybe not so lucky! Since the church where I sing was on the way, I decided to peer into it. It was ghostly. I prayed that things got back to normal soon. It’s close to three months and yes, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I also swung by the pastor’s house in the back of the church. It didn’t look like anybody was there as the driveway was vacant and I was too bashful to knock on the door. Later I heard that he and his wife were indeed home. Oh, how helpful they were once I approached them a few days later.

Ultimately, we made it to a nail salon on Park Avenue between Lincoln Avenue and Merrick Road and the staff was incredibly friendly though the chemicals in the place got to me. One of them gladly offered me an outlet and I plugged in my phone. I also googled the address for a car rental place and as I stepped out to inform my husband about it standing outside Giftology a small boutique, a woman from the store overhearing my conversation volunteered her power outlet. I said I didn’t need an outlet now but needed to know where 602 Sunrise Highway was. She said it was not walking distance and insisted that she take my husband there. He took up the offer and left with her. I decided to shop. I learned from the person at the register that Kerry the Samaritan owned the store and yet another quaint looking house across the street which also was a shop.

RVC has an old world charm with lots of elegant homes and Kerry’s second store reflected this Victorian elegance. I felt compelled to reciprocate her Samaritan gesture by buying something in the store. I did find a purple wrap-like, loose, button-less cashmere- look-alike acrylic sweater with baggy sleeves. I loved it, though, normally, I won’t pay that price for that item. But these were not normal times.

B returned after registering with the car rental company. There were 250 people ahead of him. Kerry said that I didn’t really have to buy anything in her store. I said that I was buying because I liked the item. She insisted that she drop us back. We felt grateful beyond words. Here was a stranger who went out of her  way while a day or two later a so called close friend whose life had not in any way been altered by Sandy and lived ten minutes from my home asked me to get to her place if I could and stay with her if I wanted to. She knew I had no transportation.  Like God, some friends work in mysterious ways. Another friend advised me not to judge her harshly because she probably offered what she could. Indeed, not all of us are 100% thoughtful at all times. We took up Kerry’s offer after enjoying a hot meal in days at a corner falafel place. RVC was alive and well eager to help out its neighbors from Oceanside.

Judy, a dear friend had emailed saying all was well with them. I felt relieved plus happy that she could help me out. I contacted her and informed her of our dire straits. She immediately offered me her second car which she said was not being used. I felt lucky and touched beyond words. Her husband Len came to pick us up and I used the opportunity to transport stuff from my fridge and freezer to hers. The couple opened up their home to us and then on I had a second home. I took a hot shower, cooked some dishes (one for them as well) and returned home in Judy’s loaner car feeling grateful for the things that were somewhat in place. Soon, B also got a second car from a different rental place in Lynbrook this time. The next question was gas. Judy a very thoughtful person had filled her car to the brim while the rental car had so little that for fear of running out of this measly supply even standing on those mile long lines at the gas station would have been impossible.

A new routine began for us. From time to time the radio will be turned on to keep up with the latest news most of which was grim. Sounded like New Jersey’s shore line was the worst hit with the whole shore line and whole towns getting wiped out. There were deaths in the tri-state area. Close to a quarter million cars were totaled and hundreds of thousands had lost power. On Long Island, 90 % of LIPA customers. Wall Street was flooded. Over all it was a doomsday scenario. The new routine brought the family closer in every way. Normally, we are rarely together but now we shared the same space and voices floated across in the dark like gossamer.  Not one single harsh word was exchanged. There was a sense of wonderment at how this could have happened. The very philosophic older child declared that there was a sound metaphysical reason for Sandy’s visit. The universe was trying to tell us to slow down. This did make sense. Suddenly, our individual self’s craving to be alone and wanting to keep our thoughts private yielded to sharing each other’s space. Nobody was judging anyone. There were more important things at hand to do. With no television or internet and mainly no heat or power or phone the only thing to do was to retire for the night early and get under the cold sheets. Having a warm body next to you never meant so much than now.

One day, while waiting at the RVC station (our line had been suspended indefinitely) for B’s train to arrive wanting to save gas, I turned off the car engine, and waited for an hour as snow fell outside in sheets cutting of all visibility from inside the car. That night, my toes stung so bad that I couldn’t finish my dinner. I covered them with my alpaca shawl bought in Chile in 2007 never knowing what dire need it was going to address. No other fabric could provide the heat needed to unfreeze my toes, not even down.   

As my husband began to dump stuff I tried to hand on to all I could: rare books, photos, brief cases, more books, mementos given by a loved one when alive, many of my published and unpublished writing from way back, flyers of my performances, lyrics of many of my favorite songs which thankfully can be found on the Net, my college diplomas, transcripts, gift wrapping paper even as my husband advised me to dump things like old brief cases from my Wall Street days stuffed with many bitter sweet memories but had been waterlogged now. Eventually, I did save the photos and the diplomas and transcripts. The clothes drying rack came in very handy.

When it rains it pours. Many, non-Sandy related things went wrong, too. Possibly they were indirectly related. Suddenly, a hot water pipe began to leak. While shutting off the valve in the boiler room to stop water flow in the pipes, the workmen possibly put too much pressure. The main valve began to leak. This is when my experience as a child in India watching my father deal with such situations came in handy. So did the bucket. Luckily it was a slow leak and I called Abraham the plumber, my long time contact who showed up almost instantly though it was late at night. Anyway, the next day, he fixed the leaking hot water pipe but he could not stop the valve from leaking. For this we needed to contact the water company, which my thoughtful husband did the first thing next morning. Almost immediately, they sent a plumber but he could pout only a temporary fix because the water line outside the house had to be accessed first, which only the water company had access to. I had never seen such insanity before. We had to pursue them relentlessly because of mostly incompetence. The will to help was there mostly though a couple of staff members wanted to pass the buck. Anyway, eventually, after the burly water company men showed up in a burly truck, they misidentified the location of the valve outside the house, dug up the concrete at the end  of our drive way, left a gaping hole there and finally dug up the right spot a few feet away and marked the spot. Before they left, they closed up the incorrectly dug hole promising to do a more professional job eventually. To cut a long story short, as if Sandy was not giving us a heartburn, the unexpected water leaks and the subsequent shoddy work of the water company and poor communication between them and their plumbing company, a third party vendor, added to the agony of those dark days. Anyway, ultimately all ended well except for the fact, the shabbily patched up hole is still waiting to be repaired properly.

Talking of freak things, one night as I was folding the clothes drying rack the flesh between my thumb and the pointing finger got caught in it in such a way that I almost lost the pinched part. It was a miracle that I pried my skin out without any major damage to it. The bruise stayed on for a couple of days.

Now, the reconstruction of the downstairs is going on and the never ending shopping for all the replacements is driving me nuts.  I thought I was done with the last tile selection in my life when a few years back I did what I thought was my last home improvement. It is déjà vu all over again. By next week, I should have my lost space back. Many of the furniture I may never replace. Plan to go back to the ways of my ancestors: simple living. It does feel lighter both literally and figuratively. This may be just wishful thinking, however, considering how much we have come to depend on so called modern conveniences, a misnomer in my opinion.

What made Sandy’s visit and her handiwork tolerable were the number of angels who showed up at every corner during the dark days. First on the list was Barry who gave us, a couple of strangers, a ride to a hot spot so we could make urgent phone calls. Next came the Korean salon girl who let me charge my phone in her salon; Kerry of Giftology who insisted she give us a ride so we didn’t have to walk back the three miles we had already covered once getting to RVC; my friends Judy and Len who loaned me her car with a full tank of gas no questions asked, opened up her hearth and heart no questions asked, Byron my gym friend and my friend Nancy’s sweet husband who happenchance was behind me in the gas line, and gave me a ride home with four canisters containing ten gallons of gas in his car; upon his wife’s urging, Bernie who showed up to check on me and helped me pour the gas from the canister into our rental that had very little gas, and then of course Pastor Jeff and his wife who literally adopted me as a family member. Even Samaritans whom I din’t know from Adam had left the most delicious stuffed shells marked meatless on the cover with extra sauce on the side that the pastor had me help myself to in the church fridge. Oh, how about the Korean store owner in Manhattan who “discovered” a single gas stove in the backroom which came in handy from November 3 for us for hot tea every morning and heating up our dinners and even some light cooking. Some might call it camp life and yes, why not? On the 10th, a student's parents Shankar and Pushpa brought us room heaters and a generator. I truly felt that all these kind gestures were due to nothing less than Amazing Grace. No way could I have done so much good karma. 

During the dark days my birthday (November 4) and the presidential election (November 6) came and went. People showed up in droves to vote. Polling stations had been merged yet voting took place in an orderly way though I found ballots of those who came from the “outside” to vote were just lying around in piles on top of tables. When I pointed this out, one poll worker secured them.

Today completes three months after Sandy and the Congress just approved the 50 ½ billion dollar aid package. Now, hopefully, the insurance money will show up. The repair work is over except the fact that some of the work that was done hastily needs to be improved and the nightmare starts all over again. It’s a pity when workers cut corners thinking they can get away with it. This kind of workmanship really gives me heartburn. Waiting for happy days to return!

Ciao!