Hurricane Irene Update

Pleased to report that I've made it through Hurricane Irene unscathed.

The Saturday evening of the storm was full of winds, rain, lightning and thunder. The tornadoes, that we were also under a watch for, seem to have skipped my area. The media hyping and anticipation were worst than anything. I couldn't sleep because I kept waiting for something to happen. When I did finally get to some semblance of a REM cycle, the poor air conditioner woke me up at 2 a.m. as it was struggling to deal with the conditions. I got up, turned it off, turned on the fan, and then slept until late in the morning.

After talking to Drew in the morning, and being grateful that the cable and power stayed up all evening, I ventured out at noon to take stock of the neighborhood during the one patch of sun we'd seen in four days. Of course, by the time I got geared up with the slicker, wallet, phone, camera, keys, and shoes, it had started to mist/rain again.

Heading over to the usual route to the train, noticed that most of the stores in my strip malls were closed. No coffee for the Starbucks addicts, no donuts at Dunkin' for the carb addicts. Pizza and Chinese seem to be off the menu. The dry cleaners are usually closed on Sundays, but sadly, the laundromat is closed as well. At least one Subway is open, but for sandwiches and not for commuting. If I felt like getting a "congratulations to me, I survived the Hurricane" mani-pedi, both options were closed. I didn't even LOOK to see if the liquor store was open (that is if they had anything left.) The poor gang at 7-11 is having to serve at a surrogate donut/coffee/food source/ and grocery store. So glad I filled up earlier in the week. (Suckers!)

So here's a visual tour of part of my commute. Under the overpasses leading to the various highways, including:

the flooded Bronx River Parkway, featuring the flooding of the Bronx River. Looking south to the Bronx;

the water is almost up to the exit ramps;

water from the River isn't quite up to the gravel Metro-North train tracks - at least on my section of the route. It is definitely up and over north and south of the line; and

the scary maelstrom of current under the overpass bridge. Also note the concrete degradation to the overpass. One of these days that's going to be an issue.

As for work on Monday, and probably Tuesday? I will probably be working from home. It will take a while for the City/MTA to pump the tunnels; check the tracks, signals, and cars for damage; and then restart the systems. Aside from raising the money for the bottom line, I consider myself a non-essential personnel.

Also, we still have the day to get through with the last of the bands of winds and rain. Those, often, can be the worst, because everyone is prepared for the onset, and let their guard down. There's still rain, high winds and tidal surges to go. Plus in the winds, trees and poles come down due weakened conditions and soaked grounds. (In fact, as I typed that, we actually had a flicker in the lights ....)

Now that I've been through one storm this season, I'm prepared for the next one. And the next one, there probably will be. They've already named the new storm churning down in the Caribbean. The difficulty will be for the governors and mayors trying to get people to move/prepare, since everyone is already jaded. But that's New York for you!

YouTube Tuesday: Dam Flood 2010

Every time I prepare to visit my family over the winter break, there seems to see some kind of weather "event." Temperatures drop, and snow falls in Vegas. (Yeah. Snow. In Vegas.)

Or, in this case, it rains. I can hear you saying, so what? It rains. Let me remind you, this is the southwest. It is a desert. A day of rain is a big deal. A week or more of torrential downpours? That's a problem.

In 2005, the area in and around the Virgin River in Utah, Arizona, and Nevada experienced major flooding. They called it the 100-year flood. Who would have thought that just five years later there would be more flooding?

Before my parents bought their most recent house in Utah, they purchased a vacation home in the Beaver Dam/Littlefield, Arizona area, where the most exciting thing was a place called "The Dam Bar."

Finally, a place where I could swear with impunity. Everything was "dam."

My parent's home was affectionately called "The Dam House." It was part of a cute little retirement community nestled next to a golf course and near (note the words NEAR) the banks of the Virgin River.

Given that Grandmary and GrumpaMax have a new house, The Dam House was on the market.

Until late December, it didn't have a river/water view.

The video below shows the house at the end of their street, as it takes off for parts unknown -- or as one person says on the video, Lake Mead.


Sadly, this house had been built by hand, by the owner, who had yet to move into it. He lost the house. The garage made it, for a little bit. But he lost that too.

The floods were right before Christmas. Because this was a flood plane, many people may or may not have had flood insurance. Many people weren't there because it was a retirement community and people were off visiting family. There wasn't a flood surge, just a steady rise of water that undercut ground, and washed away ancient cottonwoods, banks, and houses. Fortunately, no one lost their lives, but it was a hard Christmas. Recovery will be hampered by FEMA, insurance, government entities, and inevitable lawsuits.

This is a photo from the next day or so, looking down the street. You can see the garage still standing. The house next to it was marked "uninhabitable" because the back end of is hanging out over the undercut bank. The houses next to that were fine. Another day of rains, and all of those houses would have been uninhabitable too, include our Dam House.
These are a few days later. The garage has been razed. The houses that used to be on the streets behind it are gone. Heck. The STREETS are gone.
Here's the reverse view from another angle in the park. You can see the bulldozer near where the garage was. The houses in the foreground imploded inward, for lack of better words, when the ground underneath them washed away. They didn't float downstream. They sank where they were.
Obviously the road is closed. THERE IS NO ROAD.
So, anyone looking for a nice retirement house in Arizona with partial water views? I know of something on the market.