A Hurricane Tale

A couple of weeks ago, I heard a passing weather report that said the next named storm in the Atlantic would be Rafael.  After that-Sandy.  I thought at the time that I know two people with those names, and they once dated.  Just a passing thought for a couple of passing storms.  I heard of Sandy a couple more times, and realized it was becoming a real news story-for the Caribbean.  Within the next couple days, I began seeing posts on Facebook that they were calling for a second hurricane in as many years to hit New York City, full on.  Still unfazed, I began to notice the circular cloud off the coast of Florida/North Carolina.

Saturday, a manager at work called and said we would be closing at 4pm on Sunday.  That was the first time I really began to believe this storm might be something.  The only other hurricane I had to compare was last year's Irene.  We closed early on Sunday last year, and that storm hit late Sunday night.  By the time I woke up Monday afternoon, the storm was over.  No electric loss, and the train was running the next day.  Barely a hiccup in the week.  This is what I was expecting this year, too.  Just as a precaution, and to feel like I was actually preparing for a storm, I went to the grocery store before work on Sunday morning.  I bought orange juice, three boxes of macaroni and cheese, and a loaf of bread.  I went to work, looking forward to a short day, and headed home at 4:30.  During that time, the City had decided to shut down subway service at 7pm and buses by 9:00.  Maybe this might be something.

On my way home Sunday afternoon, I stopped at the grocery store again for bacon and some frozen vegetables.  Bacon, because I had joked about being stocked on bacon and would be fine for this storm, when in fact, I had none.  And frozen vegetables because they were 99 cents each.  I walked thru the bread aisle and it was empty. I lie-there was one pack of pita bread on a section eight shelved high and at least 12 feet long.  The milk was completely gone and the lines were long.  Maybe this storm was going to be something.

Sunday evening, I took it easy and watched TV.  I was supposed to meet my sister for coffee on Monday morning, but when I asked if she was coming to Jersey City, she said she wasn't sure because she didn't seem to know much about the storm.  I told her that our store was closed, and I would guess that since her building is feet from the Hudson, it would seem a good idea if she stayed away, but to let me know if she was going to be here.  I would have to walk to her office for coffee, because like the City, the PATH system had closed overnight Sunday night.  Monday late morning, when I woke up, I hadn't heard if she had gone to work, so I sent a text message and asked.  She said she did not, and asked if I had heard about the Jersey City streets closing at 2pm.  I told her I had not, but turned on the TV and checked the internet to find that was true.  She asked if I was stocked and ready for the storm, and I told her the only thing I could think was that I might have misjudged the milk.  I wasn't terribly worried about it, until I realized it was 4pm, and I was almost out, but had coffee, macaroni and cheese, and cereal that would need milk over the next couple days.  I scraped together the money I could find and went out into the surprisingly light rain and wind to get a half-gallon at the grocery store.  I was happy to find them open, but when I asked, they said they were closing at 5:00.

Monday afternoon and evening, it was all Sandy all the time.  I think I counted 12 channels locally and nationally that were covering the storm.  I could only take it in small doses, so I switched to something, anything else.  The forecasters said that the worst time for the storm would be around 8pm for lower Manhattan, so I watched movies until then and then switched back to coverage of Sandy to see if they were right.  Up until then, there was never a lot of rain, and the wind kicked up only occasionally, but at 8:30, with the high tide and the full moon, the water came into Battery Park with all fury.  The most amazing video was the water running full tilt down the street and into the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel.  No one knew where it was going from there, but the assumption was that if that tunnel was being deluged, the subway tunnels probably were too.  And that would be bad.  Shortly after that, the power was cut to lower Manhattan; the reasoning was that it would be easier to dry out and turn on the equipment if it was not energized when it got wet, than it would be to replace the equipment if it was.  From the lighted warmth of my apartment, I could understand this reasoning.  But maybe this really was something.  We had already been notified that the store would be closed a second day.  This was unheard of, and I was already bored, so I hoped that I would be working on Wednesday.  As the evening wore on, the lights flickered three different times, but stayed on.  I knew then we were in the clear.  My only concern at that point was the wind.  I went to bed hoping that I wouldn't wake up with shards of glass all over me in the middle of the night.  Just as I was falling asleep, the power finally went out.  It would be OK tho, I was confident it would be on by Tuesday morning.  I turned off my phone to save the battery, just in case.

Tuesday, there was no work and no alarm, so when I woke up sometime in the late morning and turned on my phone, I found there was still no electricity and spotty cell service at best.  There were also no broken windows and no damage to the apartment.  I had a bowl of cereal and looked for something to do.  I found it in boxes in the closet that needed to be sorted and cleaned out.  I was already bored, and the waiting was making me nuts.  I went outside to see what was happening.  People were walking around in a haze-like they had been hit in the head.  People were a little standoffish, like when I saw a lady toss some trash and missed the trash can.  I told her she should play for the Knicks and she growled at me.  It's been a long time since someone has growled at me.  I went to the PATH station to see how it looked, and a cop told me it would be 3-7 days until service was restored.  I immediately planned for three days; I felt that was long enough.   I still had a tiny bit of battery charge on my phone, but the service was still spotty, so text messages would pop up, but I had no way to respond.  It was terribly frustrating, especially when I got two or three wondering about my safety and no response from me.  While I was out on Tuesday, I noticed the grocery store had generators, so I plugged in to one for about 10 minutes, until a man came out and said he didn't have enough gas to run the store and to please not charge my phone there.  Tuesday evening, the store was closed for Wednesday.  At 6pm, it was dark, so I went to bed.  

Wednesday was more of the same. By Wednesday morning, there was no cell or computer battery.  Danny's phone somehow had a tiny bit of battery left, and a couple bars of service.  I sent a message to my boss saying I had no idea how long I would be in contact, but that I planned on opening the store on Thursday.  I could not take another day of being home.  She responded by saying that she didn't know the schedule yet for Thursday.  On one of my trips outside, I found a jitney bus and asked about service to the City.  It was $3.00 per trip, and they started running at 6am.  I planned to be on it, but in the mean time, I needed to find a power source.  Around 2pm on Wednesday the block in front of my house got power, so I went over to the diner to find...all 8 outlets in the lobby full and people clamoring to charge what they could.  I went to the salon across the street and was permitted to charge my phone for about 20 minutes.  I had a charge of 3%, and still no service.  I was able to fire off a message to work asking about the schedule for Thursday, but was unable to get a response.  I went back out around 7pm to see if the diner had cleared out and found that was wishful thinking.  I found a video store down the block and asked if I could charge there. The owner let me come in and in two hours I was at 50%.  I thought that would get me thru the night and allow me to hear my alarm at 4:30am, so I could be at work by 7:00.  At 11:30 I woke up to find my phone dead!  Then I remembered, my camera has a date/time feature, so I used that to keep track of the time.

Thursday morning at 5:30, when there is no electricity in the neighborhood, it is DARK!  I found a jitney and got into the City.  I arrived at the store just before 7am, but didn't open the store or touch anything.  The first thing I did was plug my phone in and the second was call the boss.  I left a message asking if I should even be there, and if so, when we were opening.  I got a call back a half-hour later first, in amazement that I was there, and second, telling me the store hours were 11-6 that day.  I was also told that since they hadn't heard from me on Wednesday, they planned the day on Thursday without me.  I said I could not take another day in the house, and I didn't even care that I was four hours early for work.  There was a lot to do, because while we were trying not to get blown away, Halloween came and went.  Now it's time for Christmas.  It was on the way home that I got a message that the lights were on at home.  Sixty-eight hours without electricity was about 66 more than I cared for, but I am grateful to have it back.  In those 68 hours, we only lost part of a half-gallon of milk.  It could have been much, much worse.

On Thursday before I left work, I got a call to do trailer checks for "Flight."  It was at Battery Park and the shows were at 12:50pm and 6:20pm.  Despite the huge wait times, and the difficulty getting into the City, I decided to do it.  Later, I was asked to do two more at a theater on 14th Street.  My Friday was planned.

Friday morning dawned cold and sunny.  I caught a jitney to the City, but it was nearly full. Let me digress for a minute and explain these jitneys.  They are small, independent buses that run way more often than the city bus lines, and cost way less than a taxi.  The down side is they are usually old, and you have no idea who will be on it with you.  There was a stabbing on one a few months ago, so in rare cases, they really can be dangerous.  I had to squeeze into a seat next to a man who was apparently in some pain.  He moaned and rubbed his shoulder all the way to the Port Authority.  There was a lady who got on the bus, but there were no seats.  "Are you kidding me?" she said.  She proceeded to pull out her phone and call someone, saying, "I'm on one of those little buses.  It's great!  I hope they never get the trains running again.  You know what?  Electricity is overrated, and heat is too."  I tuned her out as best I could for the next 20 minutes, but I already knew this was  going to be an interesting day.

I realized I had left my phone charger at work on Thursday, so that was my first stop.  It was OK, tho, because I could catch the train downtown and get to Battery Park (at the southern tip of Manhattan; the area that was under feet of water on Monday night) in time to complete the trailer check.  Except there were no trains running south of 42nd Street.  I had to take a bus.  Because there was a "transportation emergency," all the subways, buses, and commuter lines were free until midnight.  I caught the M103 downtown to City Hall.  It was already full, but I squeezed in.  We worked our way down Third Ave, picking up more people than dropping off, and the driver was clearly obeying that Federal law that says "no passengers may stand forward of the white line while the bus is in motion."  In my opinion, he should have stopped picking up people, since behind the white line was packed.  I was struck on the trip south by how many businesses were still closed and  powerless in Manhattan.  It probably began around 23rd Street and was definitely dark by 14th Street and all points south.  There was the occasional building that had a generator or some other power source, but no full blocks were lit.  At the armory on 23rd Street, there were several trucks and National Guards(people) moving water and ready-to-eat mealpacks.  These are images for TV, not for out-the-bus-window.  After about 45 minutes, (in comparison, the 4 or 5 train takes about 15 minutes from 42nd St) we got to City Hall .  On my walk to Battery Park, I walked past a couple of pipes with water pouring out of them near the World Trade Center PATH station.  Four days later, they were still pumping water as fast as they could out of the PATH system.  This does not bode well for train service any time soon.

I completed the trailer check and had to catch a bus back up to 14th Street.  As I was leaving the theater, two ladies and four kids joined me on the elevator.  In the time it took to get downstairs, I could tell--"Are you ready for school again," I asked?  The both looked at me, sighed and said, "Yes!"  Once again, I had to squeeze onto an already full bus and inhale to allow the back doors to close.  Because this bus was full, the driver didn't stop as often, and it took no time at all to get back uptown.  I arrived at 14th Street and had to walk about three-and-a-half blocks to get to the theater I was checking at 2:30.  I stopped at a food truck on the way, and I might recommend the tostada from Patty's Taco Truck.  I walked over to the theater to find it closed.  Dark.  No power.  Waste of time.  Got back on the bus downtown, because I had to be back at Battery Park for the 6:20pm show, and while the bus was full at first, it slowly cleared out.  It cleared out enough that I was able to sit down next to a lady who was dare I say, way younger than I.  We talked a minute about how people are fun to watch, and I noted that disasters like this seem to bring people together.  People end up outside, because there's nothing to do, and they inevitably talk to each other-on a crowded bus, around outlets while charging phones, or while eating together at a food truck.  About that time, the bus driver stopped in Chinatown to let a passenger off.  To be fair, the bus had some empty seats and the aisle was almost clear, but the bus driver kept telling people to get on the bus behind her.  This little Chinese lady got on the bus, yelling "I've been waiting for the 'next bus' forever!  I'm done waiting!"  She jumped on the bus and sat down.  Another lady got on the bus too, but since she wasn't making a ruckus, no one paid her any mind.  The bus driver jumped up yelling about everyone's safety, and the lady yelled back that she wasn't moving.  In the mean time, the older Chinese lady sitting next to the newcomer started yelling at her too.  They were yelling in Chinese and Caitlyn and I (that was my new friend's name) enjoyed the show.  The older lady turned around to the bus and yelled, "This is a bad lady!"  I for one, would guess there are worse out there.  When I got back to City Hall, I wished Caitlyn luck-she was going to check on her apartment for the first time since Monday, and had no idea what she would find.  Then, I heard it-the bus driver happened to mention that the buses would not be running after 6pm.  She said because there was no electricity, they stopped running buses downtown after dusk.  I wasn't sure how I would get back uptown, but somehow it would work itself out.

I arrived back down at Battery Park, and walked around a bit.  I had to be in the theater at 6:20, and had a couple hours to kill.  A cup of coffee and a walk around the World Financial Center, and I was ready to go sit and wait for the movie.  And charge my phone.  I stayed and watched "Flight" after the trailer check, and it was a good movie.  I would recommend it to anyone who wants a bit of an emotional roller coaster.  Skip the first 20 minutes if you have a fear of flying.

After the movie, I went out to wait for a bus.  I saw one, I knew they were running, and I was going to wait for the next one.  I did.  It was cold.  For 20 minutes.   I hailed a taxi and paid $15 to get to 42nd Street.  Back on the rickety jitney, I was finally home.  It was a full week, and I know that many, many people are still recovering.  Mine wasn't bad at all in the grand scheme of things.  A half-gallon of milk is no casualty at all  when some lost their homes...or worse.  There were definitely some frustrations, but ultimately I have nothing to complain about.  Here's to 2013...and no hurricanes!