Photo courtesy of Fairfield Police Department
Greetings From The
Increasingly Coastal Connecticut
By Lauren Bove, P'16
We now have power, cable, Internet and a cold fridge full of
rotten food but still so many are in the dark and struggling to get by. My neighborhood
in Fairfield lost power on Monday late afternoon. It was expected—which was why
we were all rushing to pack away potential projectiles around the yard; and
hungrily sucking up that last bit of electricity for cooking, work, charging
devices and whatever else. Thanks to the ubiquitous and increasingly alarming
news reports, we prepared for days prior. But what can prepare you for the
unpredictable stress, mixed emotions, devastation and sadness—along with acts
of kindness and camaraderie that occur after a storm like this?
Sunday, the night before the storm, the local high school
opened up for evacuees and those in need. To my surprise, the parking lot was
full of cars by 8 p.m. The waiting was the hardest part. Glued to the TV set
masochistically, we watched the increasingly dire warnings issued. Officials in
the know bandied about scary descriptions. Things overheard: “Worst ever”,
“Like nothing in our lifetime”, “Largest”, “Fiercest”, “Devastating”, “Life
threatening” and much more.
We got the message. The storm was a recipe for disaster and
it wasn’t to be like any other. A Frankenstorm was coming—a mélange of weather with
a soft, gooey tropical hurricane center, surrounded by rich, dark Nor’ easterly
winds. If life was truly like a box of chocolates, we would have taken a dubious
nibble of Sandy, shove her back in the box to shrivel up and toss out with the
trash. (Along with the gelées we never liked and that dreadfully sour lime
truffle. Why do they still make those?)
The storm hit Monday as expected, then dog-legged left. Sandy
didn’t even have the courtesy of interjecting “Fore!” before she hit us. At
that time it wasn’t clear what was happening in the rest of the east coast. We
experienced winds that bent trees in suspiciously precarious positions. Flashes
of light lit up the sky, from what we can only guess. The sound of a passing freight
train lulled the family into a fitful sleep. My bedroom is located in the
shadows of a 100-year-old maple. I kept envisioning the thing being blown over
on top of me. To my surprise, I did not wake up with a mouthful of branches.
The morning brought all those in our neighborhood out to
survey the damage. We must have looked like a staggering hoard of zombies,
squinting at the ostensibly inappropriate sunlight. Without coffee or much
sleep, it was determined by consensus that, “It could have been worse”, which
was heartbreakingly the case for so many. The afternoon and following days since
have been spent: searching for Wi-Fi, huddling around working electric outlets
in Starbucks and the home of friends with generators, eating unusual
combinations of foods—dried cranberries and peanut butter on a graham cracker
got two thumbs up in our house.
Naturally, in our house, finding out how the Hofstra campus
was fairing and preparing was of upmost importance. Thankfully the Hofstra
Facebook page and email blasts kept us in the loop. I was able to speak with my
son, a freshman living in the Netherlands, and he assured us that Hofstra was
taking care of the students and planning for their safety. Food was never
scarce, power was restored quickly and I’m quite sure there will be many
stories to tell and lots to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.
After the storm more than thirty homes on the coast in
Fairfield have been deemed uninhabitable. Neighborhoods and homes in New York
and New Jersey as well as the surrounding areas have been totaled. My
girlfriend’s home on Long Beach Island is a memory. Flooding on the beach in
town floated a family member’s car and home away. My parents are still without
electricity… but like they say, we’re at our best when things are at their
worst. We will persevere. To everyone in the area and especially to our Hofstra
family: May you always have walls for the winds, a roof for the rain, tea
beside the fire, laughter to cheer you, those you love near you, and all your
heart might desire.