|View from my apartment. Still angry sky. Hudson river in the background.|
But here in Manhattan, the storm is really far from over.
Yesterday morning, when I wrote this post, the rain and wind were still minimal, people were outside, and the whole thing seemed quite far away, exciting even. We hunkered down in our apartment in pajamas, ate comfort food, and watched movies. We enjoyed being together, having this time out from our normally busy routines. I got an e-mail that work was to be closed again on Tuesday, and thought how nice it would be to have another day off.
But a few hours later, everything was different.
As the worst of the storm began to pass over the city, the water started rising. And then the pictures from lower Manhattan started rolling in. The streets were flooded. A crane was dangling above 57th street, swaying in the increasing wind. The World Trade Center site was inundated. Power was lost in the entire southern half of the city. A building facade was completely blown off, exposing the apartments inside. Generators failed in the NYU hospital, and tiny babies had to be evacuated into punishing rain and wind. And the water continued to flow in.
I got updates from my best friends, hunkered down in Hoboken, New Jersey, right on the bank of the Hudson River. Streets were flooded, power was touch and go, but they were ok. This morning, power was off completely but still, they are ok.
I heard from Sister L, who lives higher up in Manhattan than I do. Her apartment building was shaking, the lights were flickering just a little bit, but she, too, was ok.
I got in touch with my cousins in the East Village. Power was out, and streets were flooded, but they were safe.
But as I continued flipping through pictures of the devastation that had occurred before the storm was even over, my heart was, and still is, aching. The city is still reeling from the shock, and the clean-up has only just begun. Businesses remain shuttered, and it could be days before subways are back in service, and all the power is restored.
But I feel lucky, so incredibly lucky, that my little corner of the Upper West Side remains all powered up, and that my family, both by blood and heart, are safe. And will stay safe, as long as the recovery takes.
It has been a scary 24 hours here in NYC. And now the clean-up begins. Looking forward to brighter, sun-shinier days ahead.