As the winds howl outside the Second Avenue Manse due to hurricane Sandy, I’m reminded of the hurricane or remnants of one that hit Long Island–Newfoundland, that is–about four years ago.
As the then storm started to move up the coast, catching flights and connecting at Halifax became crucial. As I just arrived at a house I rented from the internet that sat on the edge of an inlet, fear began to creep in: a strange house, an island of 160 people reachable only by ferry an hour away, four hours to the nearest “town” of 1,000 people, little food or water. Would the house last gale force winds? Is there any way to hear news from the outside world? Are those waves rising below? At 2am, those were the questions.
Just thinking about that night a few years ago, as the lights remain on here in the East Village, USA.
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