I’m safe. I have electricity and water and phone service. I’m very grateful for this. And I sit here shocked at this storm that has hit the New York area.
I watch in the same disbelief that held me transfixed during Katrina. This time, though, it is my neighbors who are fleeing to shelters. Areas that are part of my childhood are gone. The restaurants where I lunch when I’m working in lower Manhattan may never reopen. Subway stations won’t be open for a while.
I think of friends still recovering from the storm that hit upstate New York and Vermont last year who have barely recovered. And the ones who may never recover.
And I think again about Katrina.
And the New Orleans that was.
Reports are mixed. I am heartened to hear of people helping each other – handing out food, helping people to safety, posting and tweeting their support. I am saddened to hear of people just walking on by. What I really wonder, though, is what people will be doing next week. Will we still be reaching out to our neighbors? Will we help with the clean-up? Or will we turn away?
The storm is over. The hard work has barely begun. I hope that we’re up to it.
