CHAPTER 203 STORM AFTER STORM. 2012
We had laid dad to rest on October 17. On October 22 Super Storm Sandy formed in the Caribbean as a wave, but quickly became the 18th named hurricane of the season. By October 24 it was a Category 2 storm and on the 25th it smacked into Cuba as a Category 3. No one seemed to be certain where it was headed.
watching it closely, especially my friend, Ronald Tipton.
He lived in a development
called Coventry Chase in Sussex County along the Coastal Highway, Route 1. He worked at a boutique hotel called The Inn at Canal Square in Lewes, Delaware. The hotel overlooked the Lewes and Rehoboth Canal, built between 1913 and 1916 it proved a failure as a freight shipment route, and became mainly a leisure boat center and tourist
destination. The big draw in the area is Rehoboth beach, just about 8 miles to the south of Lewes.
Suddenly this a target. Forecasters were saying Sandy was going to land near Rehoboth. This was close enough to give pause to those living in Coventry Chase.
made U. S. Landfall at Brigantine, New Jersey instead. It moved slowly inland and was gradually weakening down to a Category 2, but then it was overtaken by another extratropical storm on November 2 and restrengthened. It effected 24 states and some of Canada before it was through. Damage amounted to $65 billion the U.S. New Jersey and New York were severely devastated.
The storm didn’t directly effect me. I became involved on
December 8 when a small group of us in my church volunteered with Samaritan’s Purse, Reverend Franklin Graham worldwide relief organization. We traveled together from December 8 through January 5th to help that organization muck out homes destroyed by the storm from Tom’s River to Seaside Heights, especially working at Ortley Beach locations on the barrier island, crossing the Barnegat Bay Bridge to get there.
destruction. All the former possessions in the homes now lined the curbs as waterlogged trash. We went into homes stripped bare and our job was to strip away even door, tearing out the drywall (no longer really dry) rip[ing up the warmed floors and pulling thousands of nails from every surface,
We were forced to wear surgical masks long before the future pandemic to protect our lungs, which made our work more difficult because these impeded our breathing and steamed up any glasses. It was worse later in some areas as we were forced into HAZMAT suits because of the mold in the homes.
us come because everything had been left on them. It was hard labor. What had happened on the Island was the sea had overflowed from one side and the bay from the other. Houses along the street had been flooded up to the second floor level. We were there until January 5, 2013 mucking out. This was our basic regular team, always there.I m third from the left and my daughter Laurel is the second from the left.
This is my daughter working on a wall in one home. She didn’t show any fear. Here she was drawing through an opening into a house to work on the crawl space beneath it.
She was tireless.
At one point she was modeling a HAZMAT
suit for the other volunteers.
Her suit would not remain pristine by the end of the day.
I would have my own
turn in that infernal hot and uncomfortable outfit as well,
Something I noticed though. I was having difficulty carrying out the items, something I figured I could handle. Some oof the younger men were taking these burdens from me. Giving this old geezer some aid, which I didn’t feel I should have needed. I was also getting very tired by the afternoon. This was similar to my experience in 1970 when I was part of the Coldwater Creek crew setting up the new. I chalked it is to age then and more so now. I was 72 when we went to Ortley Beach. I didn’t consider that exactly old age and I believed I was in good shape.
Damage was very wide spread. The one house was torn right off it’s foundation and had floated until stopped by other homes below where it had stood.
house to the trash heap.
We would stop for dinner at a restaurant at the end of the day, Here was a restaurant with a service station theme with motorcycles hanging from the ceiling and cars as tables in places.
beer, which came in what looked like a beer bottle. As she was drinking this one of the men yelled, “Hey, there’s your Biker name — Boozer!” Te nickname stuck and it was off whence walked into church and several voices shoulder, Hey Boozer!”
During the day as we worked we were often sustained by this lady with the Salvation Army who would make rounds through the streets and provide us with coffee or cold drinks or snacks or candy bars.
You needed a pass just to get out to the Island. You would
go through a check point as you came off the bridge and have to display this placard. Then the police would wave you in.
This was another days crew, fairly large. Laurel and I are in the first row.
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