After the storm

We live in Hoboken, an urban enclave, just 7 minutes outside of Greenwich Village, in an 1865 brick rowhouse. It's a city of incredible brownstones, gorgeous old brick row houses, restaurants, shops, parks, and the devastation from Sandy is unimaginable. People are still trapped in their houses unable to get out. There's no food. Power is just now coming back after five cold dark days without it. No gas. Well, actually some gas, but the lines are 3 1/2 hours long. 

The streets were rivers. National Guard was here. There were boat rescues. People were walking around stunned. Or crying. Now the waters have receded but the streets are now piled high with ruined belongings: baby strollers, tables with the wood rotted from the salt water, photograph albums, clocks, clothes. The few blocks or homes that have power set up charging stations. In one of the toniest buildings, filled with lofts, people offered free coffee. Restaurants that could open gave out food. 

We were incredibly lucky. Irene last year destroyed our windows and most of our basement and we were up for 30 hours straight trying to keep the floodwaters in our basement down. But somehow, Sandy did nothing to us but take our power and savage our city. 

We sat in the cold and played Monopoly for hours by candle. We ate what food we had left and when the food ran out, we managed to find a hotel room and as soon as I saw the magic of light, I cried. 

Our power came back on last night. The first thing I did was clean the house, all three floors,  out of love and care and gratitude, and then we brought food over to donate, and tomorrow we will do the same. We invited three couples to stay with us and share our power.

The blog will be back next week. But for now, please consider donating to Hoboken or to New York.  Thank you so, so much.

Caroline