Belle Harbor, destruction, flood, hurricane, New York, Queens, rockaway, rockaways, Sandy, storm surge, Superstorm, superstorm sandy
“…Old farmhouses entombed in the deep like ghostly sunken ships, their treasured memories lost forever, fish swimming through dilapidated doors and windows as layers of silt gather on a kitchen counter, once tenderly cared for, where a family used to gather.” Memory Lake, p. 5
I’m five foot five, so I figure the sea in my stepsister’s Rockaway town home had reached my collar-bone before it slipped back into the ocean. When she, her husband, and 2-year-old evacuated they had not conceived such damage. Yesterday, despite the aftermath of chaos, flaring tempers, and destruction they rented a truck, found a storage unit, and emptied their rental home. Damaged furniture from the kitchen and living room now sit on the curb. They are camping for the next ten days in a hotel. Then what? They don’t know.
I’m certain, their faith will pull them through, and their joy, for as my step-sis says, “It’s just stuff.”
Photo provided by Tom Weis: http://tomweisphoto.com/gallery.html