Breezy Point, 11/20/12

Me & Ann @ Breezy, 11/20/12

November 20, 2012

Headed out to Breezy again today; this time I went by myself. I got into the car @ 6:00 a.m. I felt like I was running a little bit late, but I had not slept very well and missed the clock when it went off. It was chilly today, overcast and gray like November is on Long Island.

I hit rush hour traffic, but heard some great music that made the trip more enjoyable. As I got onto the Belt Parkway, it slowed down around JFK and then again near the enormous landfill. I made my way to Exit 11S, and due to the heavy traffic, I noticed a few things that I hadn’t seen on previous trips: stray boats lying in the reeds in odd positions—displaced by the water and wind; strange, unrecognizable pieces of colorful debris scattered over wide areas, and vehicles that I couldn’t tell if they were parked or had been deposited in their positions by the storm.

I drove into Breezy and saw a new sign of renewal: The first stoplight was working! As it turned from red to green and I drove down the road however, the rest of the place was still a mess. Yes, there was progress being made: Huge piles of garbage gone; clear open spaces where I think there used to be homes—now bulldozed away as though the lives there never existed, and fewer volunteers. The fewer-volunteers part was disturbing. It was obvious that there was an enormous amount of work that still needed to be done, but as days rolled into weeks, the storm had become an old story. Old stories do not draw throngs of fresh volunteers. The people who were around were indeed working hard, but they looked tired.

Looking Through the Wall, Breezy, 11/20/12

I arrived and was greeted by Ann and her daughter Lula, two of her daughter’s friends—Lauren and Meghan--and another pal—Ian. The 6 of us were ready for a hard day’s work. It had been suggested by Jim that all of the sheetrock be pulled off the walls from about 6 inches below the crown molding. This should come down along with the insulation behind it. There was probably mold there and as depressing, overwhelming and “expensive-to-replace-it-all” this sounded, it was decided that it had to be done.

The system was 1-2 people would make their way around the room and do the measuring. The rest of us followed behind and scored the lines with utility knives and then pulled the sheetrock off and the insulation out. At one point, Ann was turned sideways and speaking to me, her face in a silhouette. As she spoke, I could see her breath—it was cold—probably 10 degrees colder than it had been on Sunday. We put our masks in place and the work began. In short order, our layers of jackets and sweaters were stripped off as the dust flew among the room of dedicated workers.

Bird's Eye View of the Work in Progress, 11/20/12

I thought about putting a step stool in the car before I left but had not done it; Ann had told me that she had 3 ladders and we figured that would be enough. One of the ladders turned out to be too tall for the room however, so we were down to 2. I went back to my car and found a modeling stool and brought that in—it worked just fine as a step stool. The work was filthy and exhausting. The strange angles that my body got into while I was scoring the lines made me very aware of my obliques and triceps; I knew then that I was going to feel it tomorrow.

Scoring the sheetrock was an awkward job. The lines were relatively straight but that didn’t mean that the sheetrock came off along those lines. Weirdly, misshapen pieces would come off the wall. I figured out that the dampness of it helped determine how easily it came off. I also figured out that there were different kinds of sheetrock. Some of it in the hallway was extremely hard and cement-like in its nature. We started a contest to see who could pull off the largest, cleanest cut. Oh, the thrill of small victories! And then, I pulled a piece off that was covering holes in the wall; these holes were stuffed with newspaper. WOW! Remember the model Marla Hansen who had her face slashed in Central Park? Well, I am here to tell you that that happened in 1986—we saw the headline on the crumpled up, yellowed cover of the NY Daily News. We felt like archeologists discovering lost artifacts. It was nice to forget for a minute or two that we were tearing down the walls of Ann’s house in order to protect it from the mold delivered by the wrath of Sandy.

Finished! Breezy, 11/20/12

I will tell you that we did find mold. And when we did find it, we knew we had made the right decision to do this job. Everyone that I have met in Breezy has an exhausted, overwhelmed look about them. The decisions that they have to make, sometimes quickly and always in-unknown territory, are difficult, frightening and life altering. A small victory like—yes, there is mold here—confirms that correct decisions are being made under unspeakable circumstances. And, as frightening as it all is, the people who still have standing homes, albeit in terrible condition, have enormous gratitude.

The Awesome Crew @ Breezy on 11/20/12--Lula, Ian, Meghan, Lauren & Ann

So on this gray Tuesday in November, I got to work with a wonderful crew of people. We all worked toward the goal of making the house whole again. We got 2 bedrooms, a hallway and the steps leading to the basement (now that was a funky situation down there!) finished. A couple of days later, a crew of volunteer construction workers from Pennsylvania came in and did the rest of the hallway and the other two rooms.

The road ahead is a long one and one that will just have to be taken one step at a time.

I will continue to expect good things....

Breezy Point, 11/18/12

Salvaged Silverware @ Breezy Point, 11/18/12

Breezy Point    11/18/12

Last Sunday, I spent the day @ Breezy again with my sister. Jim and Casey came along this time. I woke early and made the sandwiches. Took them along with homemade Wowie Cake cupcakes (if you want this recipe for the simplest, most-delicious cake ever—just ask!), chips and water. The ride in was easy; not much traffic on this Sunday in November. Upon arrival, I could tell that things felt different.

On my first visit, which was about 2 weeks after the storm, the temperature was in the 60’s, the sun was out and there was a real sense of high-energy in the air.  People were everywhere: home owners, relief groups, volunteers, neighbors and friends. Everyone was happy to be alive, even though the neighborhoods were still covered in mounds of debris. Piles so high, sometimes you almost couldn’t see the damaged home behind them. Wet sheet rock and insulation, appliances, toys, clothing, pots and pans, file cabinets, mattresses—all out on the street waiting to be picked up and taken some place else. There seemed to be a lot of noise and activity everywhere. The background noise at the time consisted of the sound of gas-powered generators and the back-up warning beep on big trucks, as well as the low hum of conversation everywhere.  And the smells: salt water, a-slight-almost-imperceptible smell of mold and, the delicious smells of cooked food. There were free food stands all around the neighborhood: ribs, hot dogs, chicken soup and coffee. And mostly, there was a strong, vibrant sense of the human spirit; each person you met had it and shared it through conversation & hugs, smiles & tears or even just a slight nod.

Allstate Deluxe Homeowners Policy, Breezy Point, 11/18/12

It was different this visit. Nearly 3 weeks after the storm, now 10 degrees colder than the week before, the skies were overcast and a slight, stiff wind was coming off the ocean. Most of the enormous debris piles were gone. This was a relief to see because the piles are really depressing. When they run down the street, and you turn a corner and then they run down that street—that is really depressing. So now the piles are gone, and there, standing everywhere, are the exposed, destroyed homes of the inhabitants. 

There was still a lot of activity, but there wasn’t the sense of high energy that had been present and there were not as many people around. I think that the adrenaline has run off and now the long, hard climb of recovery lies ahead. In times of danger and calamity, we roll into survival mode and do whatever it takes to get the job done. However, at some point, we crash from that.

So on this day, Jim repaired the garage door that had been pushed off its track by the water. He also worked on pumping out the basement and dug a deeper trench to carry the water away. Casey swept up endless piles of dust and dirt, helped move furniture and was a sincere, giving volunteer—something that I find very impressive in teenagers. Lula arrived from NOLA, home for Thanksgiving break. This was her first time at the house since the storm….heart-breaking.

FDNY's Finest @ Breezy Point, 11/18/12

We fed the sandwiches and cupcakes to neighbors and FDNY volunteers. We left again at 3:00. There is no electricity, so you have to leave before dark. But you want to leave earlier than that because of the mass exodus from Breezy & the Rockaways. I have heard people say that it took them 3 hours just to get out of Breezy.

My emotional response from doing this work is interesting to experience. I find myself describing the situation to friends, and then I get choked up when describing a random, damaged almost beyond recognition, photograph of a child in a snowsuit that I found in Ann’s backyard. We do not know what child this is or which house the photo traveled from when it landed in Ann’s yard. The random, lost bits of people’s lives are what make me the most verklempt. I get teary and words catch in my throat. The losses are significant. 

I will continue, however, to Expect Good Things....

You can see the entire Breezy Point, 11/18/12 Photo Album on my FB page HERE.

American Flag in the Ruins @ Breezy, 11/11/12

November 11, 2012

On October 29^th, 2012, Super Storm Sandy ripped across the East Coast causing unprecedented damage to lives and property. I live on the East End of Long Island and prepared in the ways that I know I should. Batteries, lanterns, back-up water, charge the cell phone, batten down potential missiles. I live an old, tiny cottage and behind me is an older, enormous tree. I felt very concerned about this tree coming down on my roof. As the storm progressed and that ancient beauty began to drop her elderly, large branches, I kissed my cats goodbye and ran for it in the spitting, hissing rain to the safety of a neighbor’s much bigger house.

I slept there for the night and in the morning, returned to the cottage, which was intact with a yard full of debris from the large tree. Gazing at the undamaged roof and the intact windows, I vowed that I would not complain about any minor inconveniences I experienced as a result of the storm. No power, TV or Internet for a few days along with the gas shortages were problems that I would learn to live with. I knew via my transistor radio that damage was widespread and extensive.

Around 6:30 a.m., I got a text from my brother in Tulsa. He was checking on my safety and had bad news—there had been a fire in Breezy Point during the storm; 100 houses may have been lost. Our sister has a home in Breezy. Over the past few years, her home has been the holiday meeting place for those of us on the East Coast. My family is spread all over the country and for the couple times a year that we can get together, whatever number of us can do that, I am always very appreciative that she opens it up to us. As I get older, I feel more love and longing for my family. I had weathered my own storm with minor inconveniences; this news about Breezy brought tears to my eyes.

Yesterday, 2 weeks after the storm, finally feeling confident that the gas situation was ok, I was able to go to Breezy to help Ann at her home. It had not burned down, but the flooding damage was extensive. I was incredibly grateful that there was gas and I could lend a hand.

I got up at 4:30 and made 18 sandwiches: salami and cheese, turkey and cheese, egg salad. I packed homemade pumpkin muffins, sour cream & onion potato chips, cheddar popcorn & apples. Many of these things are some of Ann’s favorites—I kept that in mind while I was shopping. I wasn’t really sure who would eat the 18 sandwiches, but felt confident that there would be hungry people to eat them. My friend Kathee had generously donated $50 to use for any needs on the trip; I bought the groceries with her donation.

My friend Cynthia agreed to come with me; she had been to the Rockaways on a bus earlier in the week and wanted to help further. She arrived with a cooler for the 18 sandwiches, a case of water, lots of paper towels, garbage bags, gloves and a thermos for the hot, sugary Chai tea that I wanted to take to Ann.

Debris Pile @ Breezy, 11/11/12

We took off from my house around 6:30 and got to Breezy close to 8:30. The first sign of the devastation was the mountainous piles of debris along the road. Piles filled with scrap wood, bits of furniture, clothing, files in file cabinets, toys, food wrappers, letters, dishes and pans, appliances—you name it—it was there. Everything—EVERYTHING—that people owned was now in dirty, soggy, endless piles on the road.

There were lots of cars, lots of people and lots of volunteers. All along the main street from the entrance to the end, tents were set up: The Red Cross, Habitat for Humanity, FEMA, Operation Blessing, church groups, and private individuals who were giving away food: hot chicken soup, ribs, fresh baked goods, drinks of all kinds, coffee—it was heartwarming to see.

We arrived at Ann’s place. I got out of the car and we fell into an embrace. It is one thing to talk on the phone, but I always like to lay my eyes on people. Seeing them in person—that tells all. She was vertical and had most of her usual high-spirits. She looked tired as I expected and I was happy to see her sense of humor still in place. I introduced her to Cynthia and we broke out the still warm Chai tea. I think she teared-up when I pulled the ½ & ½ out of the cooler. “I brought this for you”, I said. “We are here to help in any way we can.”

The day progressed with numerous volunteer groups coming by to pitch in. We were personally helped by the following: Operation Blessing, Xavier High School Students, The Red Cross and 11 young & strong, polite and funny Air Force members from Mountain Home, ID (they devoured most of the 18 sandwiches).

Air Force Crew from Home Mountain, ID with Ann, 11/11/12

My eyes are welling with tears as I think of these people who came to help us. Ann’s home was just one still-standing, badly-damaged home in Breezy Point. And on a beautiful, unusually warm Sunday in November, these volunteers were pitching in to help her. In the midst of the all-encompassing mind-boggling destruction, I am thrilled to report that the human spirit is alive and well and thriving.

The scope of the devastation is beyond belief. If you have actually read this far along in my story, let me repeat what I just said: The Scope of the Devastation is Beyond Belief. The recovery and rebuilding process will take a long, long time. The buildings, cars and stuff can all be replaced. However, the people will have a harder time of it.

House separated from chimney @ Breezy, 11/11/12

There are not a lot of photographs of people in my story; I found them to be extremely fragile. They are tired and frightened and overwhelmed. Some have lost everything and are homeless. I even had trepidation about photographing the physical damage. I actually felt like a voyeur, like I was looking at private parts of people’s lives. When the fronts of homes are blown away and you can see inside what is generally a private space, it is a disturbing experience. When right-there-on-view-for-the-world-to-see are the remains of the furniture, the decorations and artwork, the toilet, loose clothing blowing in the breeze—for me, this was extremely startling. I felt very conscious of the fact that I did not want to exploit what I was seeing. I did not take these pictures for any reason except to share with you the extent of what happened and the level of devastation to so many lives. And I hope as a result of looking at this story, that you will keep all of this, especially the people, in your minds. Remember these people—any of whom could be us, our parents or siblings, our friends or neighbors. Remember them for they are going to need our help for a long, long time.

You can see my all of my photos from Breezy Point, 11/11/12 on my Ellen Watson Photography page on Facebook. While you are there, please "Like" my page!