guilt trip (m)

As Hurricane Sandy was barreling up the coast, my son Sam and his girlfriend Josie were on the Cape at our house there, hoping for a nice long weekend.  I told Sam to keep his eye on the weather report and make a responsible decision.

That Sunday morning, he calls to inform me that they should head back to NYC before the storm hits Manhattan.  Logistically, there was a timing problem getting the car back to Massachusetts to pick up an Amtrak train to the City before the local subways were to close at 7.

My husband tells Sam to take the car to NYC and park it in a garage.  We will be coming down on November 3rd as planned to celebrate Sam's birthday.

Sam tries to find a place to park in the City.  I call Gail who lives near Sam and with whom I worked years ago.  I haven't talked to her in 25 years and now I'm asking where to park.  Gail obliges and gives good suggestions.

Sam ends up at a garage on 55th Street.  The Yukon is oversized and he is told the charge will be $50 per day.

My husband and I watched in horror at the devastation in NYC and New Jersey all week.  People with no lights, heat, homes, food, etc.  Nothing but the clothes on their backs.

By the end of that week, Sam calls to ask if we are still coming down.  My husband and I deliberate. We feel guilty going to New York for social reasons. Then T remembers the car in the garage, racking up a big bill.

"If I have to walk there to retrieve the car, I'm going," he says.

So, we go.  We drive down in my car and bring an extra tank of gas.  We park at New Haven and take the commuter rail to Grand Central. 

We arrive at Grand Central today at 2 pm and walk a few blocks to Sam's office to meet up with him.  

So far, no signs of a hurricane.

We walk to the Marriott where we are staying.  It's loaded with French and Belgians in for the (canceled) Marathon.  They are in surprisingly good spirits.

We have several hours before dinner.  Sam asks what we want to do.  My friend Mary was supposed to come to town to see the Picasso exhibit at the Guggenheim.  She cancelled because of the storm.  We decide to go.

The exhibit is excellent but Sam and Josie are more impressed with the Guggenheim itself.  It is an architectural jewel.

Sam, Josie and T

From there, we go to Rockefeller Center to see what's going on.  I would have guessed lots of hurricane coverage, but the place is bedecked with pre-election stuff...flags, red white and blue carpets, TV screens re-running debate clips and mock voting booths. 

It is a carnival atmosphere.  Stores are filled with shoppers; restaurants are filled with people; 
the rink is filled with skaters.

No signs of Sandy here.  We are stunned.

Later we go to dinner at a mid-priced Italian restaurant recommended by Lyn's nephew.  It is packed.  Sam invited several friends to celebrate his birthday and they exchange stories of a week without showers, electricity and heat.  Friends took friends in.  There were 13 in one apartment.  What starts as a birthday dinner turns into a thank you dinner for the friends who took care of Sam and each other.

After dinner, we walk 15 blocks to Sam's friend's apartment on the East Side to take in the view of the City from his rooftop terrace.

It is a memorable day and evening. Based on what we witnessed, we have every confidence that nothing will stop New York from getting back on its feet soon.