Fernweh und Heimweh: Sandy

For the second year in a row, I have returned home to have a big ugly storm barrel its way up the East Coast and reign down destruction on Long Island. Last year, it was hurricane Irene. Despite all the media hype, we were lucky with Irene and managed to escape with little more than a few inches of water on the property and some minor flood damage to the outside room and garage; miraculously, the basement remained dry. Living on the water, this was little more than a miracle.

This year, the monster was Hurricane Sandy. What made this beast such a threat, forecasters warned, was that the hurricane would be joining forces with a Nor'easter. This, coupled with a full moon which creates astronomical high tides, meant that this freak storm was going to savagely rape the east coast with 80 mph winds and astonishing storm surge. On Sunday, with winds intensifying, it was clear that Sandy was going to make good on forecasters' promises of destruction. We spent the afternoon frantically preparing as best as we could, and then hunkered down to ride out the storm.

For lack of a better term, shit got real on Monday night. Preparing dinner, we heard a soft thud on the house. "What was that?!" Mom said, panicked. "Oh my God, the tree's down!!" I grabbed a light and went out into the storm. Sure enough, the 50 ft. pine tree in the driveway had fallen on the garage, and nestled itself between the house and the garage. Miraculously, however, damage was minimal. I don't know how, but the tree broke two small holes in the roof, broke a water pipe, and ripped on of the gutters off---but that was it. "I can't believe how lucky we are that it didn't fall on the house, and that the damage was so little!" I said.

Oh, Hey!!

Pull your socks up Joey, those wellies won't cut it!!

The water really started to come up around 10, and it came fast. At about 11, it was two feet deep outside and beginning to gush into the basement like a waterfall. We tried to get the washer and dryer up, but it was a futile attempt. Before we knew it, the water had filled the basement five feet and was still coming. I started to go around the house trying to get things off the floor, but by midnight I was exhausted and collapsed. If the water comes, it comes.

Gushing in.

ALMOST came into the house!!

I woke up on Tuesday to a yard full of water. By some miracle, the water didn't make it into the house. The basement was completely full, but the house was dry. I made coffee, and stared out the window at the brilliant blue sky breaking through the clouds. Now there's a beautiful sight, I thought, and went to assess the damage.

Beautiful!

Backyard.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

The destruction at Laurel St. pales in comparison to the incredible damage sustained at Davis Park on Fire Island. We took a ride over this morning to inspect the damage, and were awestruck by the decimation Sandy left in its path.

For starters, seven houses completely disappeared into the ocean, and two had sunk into the bay. What others remained were barely standing, their pilings washed out by the merciless onslaught of the ocean waves. The beach was completely littered with debris, and the ocean washed completely over the island to the bay at some points, leaving depositing thousands of tons of sand on people's properties. I think it's best to let the pictures do the talking , though.