My mother was able to quickly assess that there wasn’t much to salvage. My cousin, a few of his friends and myself hauled the soon-to-be moldy leather couches out to the street for the legendary day when sanitation trucks would return. We shoveled food into the garbage can from the floor, and noted the shame of waste, and marveled at the resemblance between my son and myself in the salvageable photographs. Michael ran back and forth in his waterproof overalls having far too much industry an youth in his veins and having too many venues for it. Eventually he settled on lunch an picking up the work can he left at higher ground. We came to the same conclusion and with very little of her personal affects in tow we packed up, said out good-byes and were on our way. I asked Councilman Sanders if he had any official statement he’d like me to impart in this piece and he extended his sympathies to the people effected by the storm but had nothing in an official capacity to announce…what else could be said? The devastation was apparent but also far worse in the parts of the Rockaways on the beachside. My grandfather handed us a bag of potatoes and tomatoes on our way out, which was comforting because he would have done that regardless of the hurricane.
Our ride back was somber but also hopeful. We passed downed trees, but also people cleaning their yards. We saw broken homes, but also neighbors pooling their resources to benefit their community. Most everything that was lost was just stuff. When the bay met the sea in Rockaway many lost the trappings of their lives but most kept their lives; the beaches were washed away, the boardwalk is destroyed, and the people are scattered but the citizens of the Rockaways and its children in the diaspora-from-the-peninsula are a stubborn and resourceful lot. The optimism for the community as a whole can be summed up in the same solace my mother took:
“Well, I guess I’ll get all new stuff.”
Maybe for the Rockaways, the community can band together and find a way to rebuild and reclaim its rightful glory as a jewel in the crown of the city. We can only hope the sands washed away will bring focus to the under served, underutilized strip of beach and hasten the pace of the slow revitalization that has taken place over the past decade. The shameful route leaves the neighborhood forgotten and trampled as it has been for the past 40 years, but the bright future is in the opportunity that destruction brings: creation. Like the walls in my mother’s apartment the neighborhood will get a new boardwalk and hopefully a new life–but keep its same defiant and strong spirit.
Brandon Melendez
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Brandon, I just love your writing as well, shared, keep your head up my dear.
It’s one thing to read the newspaper accounts and hear of the devastation on the news; you put a face on this tragedy, Brandon.
There is always the calm to reflect on before and after a storm.
The time to reflect during the calm of a storm, its begin, middle and end.