Superstorm Sandy

We knew well in advance that Sandy was likely to hit the Northeast Coast somewhere between Maine and Delaware.  As far back as Thursday, reports were of a cold air mass from the west pulling Sandy inland as she made her way north.  Just barely a Category 1 hurricane, she wasn't too terrible on her own, but locked in the grip of this arctic airmass, she was sure to become a Superstorm, huge in diameter and lingering for almost a day and  a half, inundating the area with rain that could cause flooding worse than last year's Hurricane Irene.  By Sunday, we knew for certain that it would make landfall in New Jersey.  And we braced for the worst.

It seemed like I was one of the few people who had listened to the reports; all of my clients were surprised to hear that there was a storm coming.  But I had planned to go shopping on Friday for essentials, including batteries, candles and bottled gallons of water, paper plates, canned goods, milk, eggs and meats that we would freeze.  I didn't want to be in the lines that would form on Saturday and Sunday in the grocery.  I did the rest of my shopping at the wholesale club on Saturday evening.  In the meantime, Miguel was preparing a platform for the generator to sit on, nestled under the kids play-house/swing-set, protected from the rain that was sure to come.

By Sunday, we had the generator in place as a steady breeze blew the leaves around the yard.  We filled the gas cans we had, and the cars' gas tanks, planning to siphon gas if it came down to it.  (I have since learned that most cars have anti-siphoning baffles in them though, so we'd have to drill a hole in the tank to get the fuel out.)  I sorted and started the laundry before we went to bed.  We charged our phones and our laptop.

Monday morning saw gusty wind and Miguel heading off to work.  By noon, he was home, let go ahead of the stronger winds that were sure to bring down power lines.  I spent the day schooling the kids and folding clothes, Miguel pitching in to speed the process along.  We baked chocolate chip cookies, (an emergency-preparedness must) and then prepared for dinner.  Just as I slid the meatloaf in the oven, the power went out.  So we lit the candles and the gas stove with matches; cooked meatloaf patties on the griddle and ate by candlelight.  Our stock of LED and standard flashlights stood at the ready on the dining room table.

As the wind picked up, we agreed that we should all sleep in the living room tonight; kids on the floor, us on the couches.  We figured it was the safest place for us to be if a tree fell.  Based on the direction of the wind, it would probably be one of the back trees and we didn't want to be on the top floor if a tree landed on us.

A fire truck moved up the street in the darkness, its bright red lights illuminating the night.  Very few branches had fallen so far, but I could now see a wire down in the street in front of our house.  At the top of the street, the firetruck reversed, retracing its path.  In the morning, we would discover that a pole and tree had fallen and blocked off the street above us. 

 The kids fell asleep and Miguel and I played Scrabble on his phone.  The wind grew fiercer and we looked at each other fearfully.  We checked in with the parents.  We waited.  During a lull, Miguel dashed out to start the generator and get the fridge and freezer running.  Still we waited.  Two hours later, he dashed out again to turn it off.  And we slept fitfully, the wind buffeting the house and trees.

Around three a.m. I heard the sound of rain and noticed that the lulls in the wind were getting longer.  It seemed as if the storm was moving on.  I drifted off again.  Each time I awoke, the storm seemed less frightening. 

In the morning, in the light of day, we assessed the damage.  The storm seemed to have moved on, not lingering as the forecasters predicted, but moving off to wreak havoc on some other region.  The pouring rain had never materialized, leaving us mercifully dry.  Only a few limbs had fallen, and none of them large enough to do damage to house or car.  Except for the tree up the block, we were relatively unscathed, but without power.

They say the power could be out until Monday at least.  This storm caused twice as much damage as Irene.  Much of the Jersey Shore is washed away.  Seaside Heights, our favorite summer boardwalk, is in ruins, with Casino Pier literally washed into the ocean.  Homes were pushed from their foundations and into the center of the town's highway.  The destruction is almost total.  How it will all be rebuilt is beyond my ability to comprehend right now. 

Traffic lights are out all over.  Gas stations either have no power to pump gas or have no gas to pump.  Those that have both power and gas have lines a mile long waiting to purchase some.  Miguel was lucky enough to find two such stations to day and get enough gas for my parents and for us.  As of about 4:30 today, my sister's power came back on with hopes that our parents' power would be up soon.

But even when power is restored to everyone, it will be a long time before things get back to normal.  And for some people, it never will.  I am thankful that for us, the storm will be over when the power comes back on.