Through all the chaos of this last week, the best gift ever has been being able to get online and just talk and listen to other people, to not feel alone in all this. May that never wash away with the tide.
Folks, this has been a trying week. All those scenes you keep seeing on tv all this week broadcast from the Jersey shore? That’s where I’m from.
My pubescent playground has been turned into a militarized war zone of broken windows, exposed joist beams, twisted metal circus rides all mixed rather vigorously with more sand than you’ve ever seen in your life. Crossing guards have been replaced with National Guardsmen with weapons blocking entrance into whole towns.
I’m still coming to terms with it all, with Sandy.
Sandy? Seriously? You couldn’t have picked a more apropos name if you suddenly had x-ray vision and could see into the future of the New Jersey coastline, my hometown, my first love.
What remains in Her aftermath is akin to a post-apocolyptic nightmare replete with enough hints of reality to distinguish it as such.
Yet, nothing can prepare you to truly understand the devastation.
Everything that I knew from my childhood is but a figment of my imagination.
And nothing is more of a universal divider than a natural disaster. The best and worst are squeezed out of people. The sheer acts of bravery, dedication to public service, and just overall humanitarianism have been as equally prevalent as the looting and thievery (only the lowest common denominator would take the ashes of a dead man just to posses the pretty container he’s been relegated to).
I want to see good prevail here. You can be a part of that. If you could see it in your heart to not buy that one luxury item this week and just donate $10 to the American Red Cross, the Salvation Army, or some other great local cause, I would personally appreciate it.
I just got internet back yesterday and I’m working on some other ways I can offer more incentive for you to open your wallets and your hearts. This? Is my Katrina. And I need your help. PLEASE.