With two weeks to go before Thanksgiving, I am in no loss for things to be thankful for. For starters I am thankful for friendly neighbors, self-powering crank up radio/flashlights, electricity, a warm bed, and hot showers. The list is endless, though I can say that a majority are what has helped me through the wake of superstorm Sandy.
Having spent my childhood in the tropics, namely the Philippines, one can say that I'm a veteran to monsoon rains and power outages. So as Sandy's gusty winds howled the power out on Monday Oct 29th, the instant hallway party at my condo was a welcomed community experience, complete with board games and a host of adult beverages. It was reminiscent of a dorm party to which I quipped "Where's the RA?", inciting peals of laughter yearned for by every comedian. Without the internet, landlines, or reliable cell signal for that matter, and being isolated in the dark, I caught a glimpse of what life may have been like in the gaslight era gone by of 1800s within the same brick walls of our complex formerly known as Dixon Mills Crucible, the pencil factory.
I will speak for myself when I confess that the underlying current of worry grew by the minute when power did not return well beyond the wee hours of the night. Gas stove top burners were a consolation that provided hot food and beverages as rapidly decreasing outside temps became more apparent indoors. The rate of food consumption (regardless of its nutritional value) increased not only to relieve stress but to fuel body heat as indoor temperatures matched frigid external temps beyond twenty four hours of the blackout. The self-powering crank-up radio/ flashlight provided much needed communication from the outside world which didn't leave one as isolated and alone as many of us would probably care to admit.
The stories of devastation in my Jersey City neighborhood alone were sadly all but confirmed as I surveyed the patches that I could reach safely and within walking distance. The scope of damage was even more detailed as fellow drinking acquaintances of local Pint Bar shared accounts of personal tragedies as they took a break from the mentally and physically exhausting day of gathering unsalvageable furniture and home items onto the sidewalk. Sandy's storm surge did not just bring the Hudson River on land and wash away people's homes, vehicles, and livelihood; it was a flood of a reality check that brought with it a new reality of rising sea levels and the need for effective emergency/disaster planning.
My heart goes out to those whose lives are forever changed by Sandy's human casualties, and obviously for those whose homes are no longer. I hope to be able to offer my strengths in any way I can for so many more who are still without electricity and heat. Four days without power and hot water may have dragged me under the weather to the depths of a cold that I've not been able to kick since then. However, I am more thankful for a renewed sense of community with my neighbors, a reliable network of friends/ loved ones/ emergency contacts on whom I was able to rely despite spotty blips of monosyllabic texts that felt like scribbled messages in a bottle sent out to an electronic sea.
With seventy-five percent of life back in order (and until the PATH trains are restored to full service between New York and New Jersey well after the severely compromising post-storm 10pm shutdown) I've focused on local weekend activities. Today's sun drenched brunch with an old friend and Bay Area theatre contemporary, Beth, was particularly heartwarming as we brunched at the hipster Marco & Pepe Restaurant, followed by cups of Baileys infused coffee on her couch, graced with her apartment's 22nd floor view of the Manhattan skyline. We bantered about our journeys from the Bay Area to New York, laughing endlessly while connecting the dots with stories and people from our pre-Facebook youth. I am thankful for rekindled friendships, shared survival, and the warmth of community that will shelter you through any storm.
