“Surreal” is the only word I can find to most accurately describe the whole experience of Hurricane Sandy. Yet it seems inappropriate somehow. Glib, even. But it's anything but that.
How else can you describe your reaction to seeing hundreds of homes destroyed in your hometown? The gut-wrenching feeling of knowing 14 people in Staten Island alone have died in what most of us thought would surely be just another “boy cries wolf” weather event hyped by the media? The harrowing sight of so many of your friends and neighbors' dazed looks as they assess their damage, some having lost everything?
It's Sunday, Oct. 28, and I learn that NU's Hoboken, N.J., office is already closed as Sandy makes her advance. As I work from home on Monday—my 2-year-old son and my dog competing for my attention the entire time—you can almost feel the approaching havoc in the hairs on the back of your neck, the inevitable coming wave as the disconcertingly light rains begin to swirl.
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