Thoughts as the hurricane struck Long Island

10/30/12 16:30 writing this in the minivan while the laptop charges.

Last night I could feel the walls shudder, the floor shook as the onslaught of Hurricane Sandy hit us.  There were strong gusts.  Watching the wind break through the bushes and trees was like a monster ripping out of its hiding, and coming in to attack.  I understand parts of Port Jefferson have flooded, lower Manhattan was flooded as a convergence of the Hudson River and the Atlantic Ocean crested over sea walls.  We have no lights.  Most of Long Island are without lights and the sense to get cash was right though we have little of it on us.  I bought two bags of ice and a six pack of Brooklyn’s Summer Ale.  How can I keep the beer cool without a refrigerator?  I guess it’s time to drink.  We spent $23.50 and had to ask for the change.  I gave Emma Tess a driving lesson today since there is really nothing left to do.  I took a nap out of boredom.  We tried to go for a drive, but the traffic lights are out.  The police blocked off 112.  Ali is in the minivan, she’s listening to the radio.  Earlier we listened to Governor Coumo describe that 90% of the LIPA customers are without power.  It may take up to 10 ten days to restore.  What about the house?  There is little damage to the house, one of the light bulbs that lit the back yard broke and a piece of siding pulled off.  This hurricane is unprecedented.  Gary Conte from the National Weather Service said, “Sandy changed our coastline.”  Inside our house, the kids are going stir crazy, they are fighting amidst the games.  Their schools are closed.  There is little to do except to make up games and fight.  I know we should be grateful for God, the fact we have this minivan with plugs is a blessing, we are not completely out of power.   And yet we are so accustomed to the daily comforts of our possessions, this is not a time for a soap box soliloquy.  The concept that we are reminded in times like these - we are blessed - will become old.  But it's true, we are fine, we are alive and are grateful.  I want to enjoy the moment and the daylight since I can read as much as possible, but I know night is coming.  Night brings silence and rest from this scorched earth.  Besides the power flicked on a couple of times inside the house.  Bring it back!

Fire Destroys a house in Port Jefferson Station

The red lights swirling in the room woke me up in a panic. Smoke hung in the air. Our house was on fire, where did it start? I got up and looked outside, ready to see firemen running around our house. A truck with its lights on was stationed in front of my neighbors to my left. Was the fire at that house? Across the street, flames crept up from the back of the large house where college students live. A thick spray of water drifted to our house, hoses showered the house in waves of water. Did they make it out alive? I stepped outside and asked if everyone got out. I was told they escaped. Wind ripped the icy air; I shivered as I watched the volunteers, heavy with rain coats and equipment extinguishing the fire. There were a few on the lower roof. Flames flared up where they were. Another team climbed inside, breaking up the wall to see if the fire was contained inside the walls. There were fire departments from Terryville, Setauket, Port Jefferson and Selden. This morning I spoke to an arson inspector and asked if he knew where it started, he said they were still trying to determine that. My neighbor had one of the tenants from the burned house inside his home. From what Vito said, one of the kids who lived on the second floor saw a small flame on the carpet that spread quickly. They called 911 from Vito’s house. It took some time for the first responders to arrive, and by the time they did, the back of the house, where the fire started was engulfed in flames.

Running shakes off the Blues

I try to run every other day. Mornings are best, but when I feel days have passed and a little sluggish, I’d get home after work and go out for a 3 mile run. Avoiding the blues, lethargic, even sick, I push myself and get out. Running is not difficult for me, there’s not a lot pain. This summer there were extreme humid days and I should have skipped those days, breathing was difficult, my muscles ached since they were not receiving the rich oxygen; I stopped running and would walk losing time and feeling the pressure of getting on the road to work. Of course the spring and summer are best. Getting out with a long sleeve t-shirt that soaks up the sweat is best. My sneakers are light and I try to run in shorts as often as possible. My faded orange baseball cap had sucked and dried up layers of white sweat stains. Sometimes I assume strangers look at me and guess if I played ball. Thoughts swirl back and forth, and there have been some satoris or awakenings during some runs. My writing has been effected in a positive way, the ideas of a scene – how it would develop - the narration, a character emerges or a scene shifts and when I get home I try to remember it all. When I travel I like to run in different cities, there’s an intimacy with the streets and the landmarks that only a runner can have. At home, there are a few occasions when I go out for long runs, to the end of the Port Jefferson harbor where the boats and ferries pass through a narrow opening…big rocks…the desolation of shells and abandoned wrecks. Those runs are rare, but when I get one in, I feel a closer connection to God and send off prayers in the salty breezes.