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Well a month later and I am seeing yet another wave of sandy aftermath.
A wonderful Japanese restaurant on my block KASADELA which is owned by the sweetest couple you could ever meet, must now close their business. Their insurance did not kick in nearly enough to save them. FEMA offered them nothing but a possible loan and they simply cannot recuperate from SANDY.
It was heartbreaking to watch them stare at their once beautiful floors, their once chic, now wrecked eatery as they pushed back tears and packed.
I see on the news a lot about all the great things FEMA is doing and I don’t doubt they are doing great things for other people, but in my hood, a neighborhood that was literally under-water with no power, heat, phone, internet and hot water, with all the businesses on Avenue D and C and the side streets flooded beyond our worst fears, I did not see any outside help for some time. The generators and the gas and the pumps we all used to save our wrecked basements, we lent to each other. Neighbor to neighbor, friend-to-friend, stranger to stranger. We were all in it together.
Everyone I knew called FEMA with great hope, but all of the local business owners I know reported the same thing I was offered from FEMA; a chance to apply for a “Low interest loan.”
I guess some took it. But certainly no bails outs and help outs free of charge.
Thanks but no thanks. I didn’t want to follow up the terror of living and working in the evacuation zone by also winding up in dept.
South Street Seaport has yet to recuperate, a pal of mine told me last night, her friend who opened his bar in the seaport after a life-time of bartending and saving money will now have to close, he is un-able to survive the damage of Sandy.
“He’s back to bartending now.” My pal said sadly.
A life’s dream down the drain.
I spent a few days after the power finally came on, throwing out hundreds of family photographs, paintings, my collection of books, CDs, ruined antiques, decades of sentimental items, a huge basement storage filled with things I loved all turned to a big pile of brown mush and rotting salt water.
Good friends of mine felt sorry for me and jumped in to offer flashlights, handholding and just a shoulder to lean on when I was covered in dirt and salt and the ink of the lost faces of my past. Kristy, Emory and Lavelle who all dug in the mush with me. Not for the faint of heart.
My GF lost her car; it was ruined under 10 feet of water. Just gone. She loved that car. She really loved that car.
Our basement took in about 15 feet of water, a foot of water in our lobby too.
I watched cars float on my block. A river came rushing down my street. It was a site I still can’t get past; Avenue C under water. It looked like the horrible images I would see on the news and thought that could never happen here. NEVER!
Most people in Manhattan do not have flood insurance, why would we?
Why would we??
FEMA sent myself and most of the other folks I spoke to an email saying we qualified for a whopping “0” in compensation. They explained to me on the phone that none of my lost possessions were life sustaining. No of course not, just soul sustaining.
Every time I started to feel sorry for myself, I turned on the news and saw the people who’s entire home was gone, who had lost everything, who maybe even had been injured or even killed and I realized that I was truly lucky, truly blessed, so I shut he hell up.
There are still people without power, without homes, who have lost everything.
I am okay. I am fine. Our intercom is broken, some power still funky in basement, we still need a demolition crew to tear down the ruined parts of our basement, our carpet is ruined, lobby is a disaster but our building is safe and warm however funky, our power back on. We get to live in our own homes.
My business was able to survive the ordeal, unlike so many many others.
In the worst days after Sandy, when we were all cold, scared and really in need of a shower and a hot meal, I did not see any government help, but what I did see was heart-warming. I saw the squatters of the C Squat co-op collecting everyone’s about-to-be-thrown-out food and building a buffet, throwing anything they could on sidewalk grills and feeding the neighborhood!
With a joint hanging out his month , a scraggly, long bearded guy happily doled out grilled plantains and vege burgers to anyone who wanted food. Yuppies, preppies, hippies, bankers, punks and home less, everyone lined up happy to be eating.
I saw Maristela, the proud Italian restaurant owner on the block standing guard with her cigarette and her laughter to protect our corner from the darkness and the sadness and looters. I saw G-man the artist in my building that waded thru four feet of murky possibly dangerous water in our basement to save two small gas generators that were used to pump out the water in all the basements on our corner.
We shared firewood and food and when nothing else was left an endless supply of free hugs.
That was all I could give the sweet couple of Kasadela yesterday, two free hugs and my prayers.
Two free hugs and my prayer, that one day, all this will just be a sad dream and that your new life will be richer, stronger, happier and more glorious.
To myself I say this; appreciate what I have around me, because nothing can be taken for granted.
All we are, is all we have.
1 comment
Hugssss.the one good thing that came out of my house getting trashhed with back to back hurricanes jeanne and i forget the other was the neighborhood pull together and really help each other. I know its been really hard for you all…and also that our beloved jesey shore where we both grew up will never be th same. Love you guys….gail