Superstorm Sandy - 7 Months Later

There are so many voices on the internet and I know mine is not among the powerful. This is why I have a blog devoted to me and my life. And sometimes the happenings of my people. This is my area of subject matter expertise. But I was recently challenged to write about something beyond me. This isn’t to say I haven’t tried before; I have – countless times – following Hurricane Sandy, the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary, the Boston Marathon bombings, etc. My words about ‘big world’ devastation feel void and far from cohesive, so I usually settle for not posting… and simply appreciating the process of processing. But, this weekend, I traveled to the Jersey Shore, specifically Seaside Heights, and gained a bit of perspective. For those of you unaware, Seaside Heights is home of the iconic Hurricane Sandy – ‘roller-coaster-in-the-Atlantic-Ocean’ – image. This weekend was about my friend H.C.O.; her bachelorette weekend brought me to New Jersey after all. But while celebrating, taunting me was the remaining damage and destruction surrounding us.

After only seven months, there was life on the reconstructed boardwalk. And the clubs came alive at night. To my eyes though, much seemed missing (or unavoidably still present). There were empty lots. The sand was brand new. The beach smelled not of the salty Atlantic but instead radiated scents of fresh wood (from rebuilding of the boardwalk). The roller coaster has not been replaced. The dunes were completely flattened. Though businesses had reopened, each one sold “Restore the Shore” paraphernalia, in what seemed a desperate manner. Hotels were not full – much of the town seemed rather ghostly.

The damage in New Jersey – months later – was nothing like the Louisiana I witnessed six-and-a-half years after Hurricane Katrina. So while the road to recovery will be less treacherous, or appeared that way from where I stood, it was still a blatant reminder of how small this world can make me feel. The damage done to the shore (and the gulf… and most currently, the wildfires threatening California) are entirely beyond my capabilities. How can I contribute? How do I let people know I care? How do I show I haven’t forgotten? Who’s to say another hurricane isn’t brewing? (Or this wildfire won’t devastate Yosemite National Park?)

Of the few pictures from the weekend, I was fixated on the destruction. I’m weird like that. Locals and tourist alike commented as I snapped pictures of the boardwalk where the Ferris wheel once stood. These, of course, aren’t the printable vacation pictures I’m typically after. But they are real life – late Summer 2013. I never saw the before. This was my first trip to the Jersey Shore, and could likely be my last. I was challenged in the course of my ordinary days to look for those who need to be reminded they aren't alone. Together, we just have to hold on and hang in there. There will be days of joy and peace ahead.