N.Y. / Region
Just a Storm? Not After the Hurricane
Uli Seit for The New York Times
Stocking up at a Stop and Shop supermarket in Queens on Friday before the snowstorm.
By CARA BUCKLEY
Published: February 8, 2013
Perhaps in any other year, the nor’easter would have been met with
little more than a shrug in the New York region. Sure, some people would
still have stocked up on batteries, water, food and snow shovels. But
even they would have salted these purchases with knowing complaints
about too much hype.
Related
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Big Storm and Its Disruptions Descend on the Northeast (February 9, 2013)
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The Lede: Updates on the Winter Storm (February 8, 2013)
This year is different. Not even three months after Hurricane Sandy
destroyed thousands of homes, businesses and cars, and stripped
millions of residents of power, the rites of disaster preparation are
tinged by a fresh sense of vulnerability in a region that has learned
not to underestimate mother nature.
So on Friday, as the snow-choked storm system moved ever closer, there
was a palpable sense of urgency in the air. Idling cars stretched from
gas stations, some of which ran out of fuel. Supermarket lines extended
out doors, and shelves emptied. Generators were prepared for possible
power failures. And many of these disaster-ready residents wrestled
openly with another worry: that a minor storm would make all these
preparations seem over the top.
“I don’t think it’s going to be as bad as they’re saying, but I said
that with Sandy too,” said Lavel Samuels, 42, who filled up the tank of
his black S.U.V. in Far Rockaway, Queens, in the morning. “I’m filling
up based on my experience with Sandy, in case there’s no gas on Sunday
or Monday.”
The anxiety was particularly high among those still deep in the process
of rebuilding, some of whom worried they would be able to cope with
another nature-born blow.
In Gerritsen Beach, Brooklyn, where many people are still not back in
their homes and the local volunteer fire department’s hall is being used
daily to serve hot meals to storm victims, firefighters doled out extra
advice: people should keep whistles on hand, even around their necks,
in case something happens and they cannot contact anybody.
“Everybody’s a little nervous,” said Linda Cupo, first vice president of
the neighborhood’s property owners association. “Everybody’s a little
leery.”
In Staten Island, several people living in heavily damaged areas said
they would be closely monitoring the storm, with plans to flee if the
water inched too close. “Some in our group have evacuated, even though
there’s no mandatory evacuation,” said Joseph Tirone Jr., who heads a
group pushing for home buyouts in Oakwood Beach, Staten Island. “We sort
of welcome the storm to show how dangerous the area is.”
The scenes of people taking extra precautions in ways they had not for
Hurricane Sandy, let alone past winter snowstorms, were repeated across
New York and New Jersey. The Mobil station in Long Beach, N.Y., was one
of many besieged by customers starting on Thursday night. It ran out of
gasoline around 10 a.m., the first time its pumps had dried up since
Hurricane Sandy. The manager, Yehuda Rodriguez, 33, said he did not
understand his customers’ thinking: “They’re filling their cars to sit
in the driveway because if there’s six feet of snow, where are you
going?”
At Brewers Hardware in Mamaroneck, N.Y., Anthony Lividini, the manager,
said he was selling far more blizzard and power-failure supplies than
usual for a winter storm, including generators that cost as much as
$1,299. “People are getting nervous and coming out early because after
Sandy they were unable to get supplies,” Mr. Lividini said.
The months of recovery work meant that many community groups were ready
to help should the storm cause problems. In Brooklyn, the Red Hook
Initiative and the Red Hook Volunteers checked their lists of homebound
seniors, in case the electricity failed.
Several people noted that if floodwaters hit — flooding is projected to
reach as high as four feet — they were already somewhat prepared by
virtue of having less to lose: their basements and first floors were
still gutted from the hurricane. Still, they felt a measure of
vulnerability.
“What little I was able to save from my first floor is in a container in
my driveway,” said Mike Dziuk, 54, a retired detective and firefighter
who lives in Belle Harbor, on the Rockaway Peninsula in Queens, half a
block from the ocean. “That’s all exposed.”
Even in hard-hit waterfront communities, residents expressed a measure
of defiance and grit. Fears about the coming storm, they said, were
hyped. The threat of snow seemed far less menacing than the floodwaters
brought by Hurricane Sandy. “We need this blizzard like we need a hole
in the head,” said John Vetter, preparing for the storm in Far Rockaway.
“But we’re beach people. We don’t run.”
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