First Week in NYC

We arrived in New York City on October 1, 2024.

Just a few days earlier, during our brief time in Tampa, Hurricane Helene had carved a path of destruction from Florida to Tennessee. We had moved on to New York as planned, but I had hoped to fly back to Florida, or maybe North Carolina, to volunteer with World Central Kitchen for a few days. I checked the WCK volunteer website every day, but the Florida spots were all filled, and the North Carolina spots were just for forklift drivers. (I guess the roads in western NC were impassable for volunteers.) After much careful consideration, I decided that instead of spending money on airfare, lodging, and car rental, I would make an additional donation to WCK. They would be able to stretch those funds to help many more people than I could have helped in person. I also promised myself I would find a way to volunteer again with WCK in the future.

It was time to focus on our current home, New York City. One of the perks of a longer stay in the Big Apple is being able to take advantage of discounts for shows, thanks to rush tickets, lotteries, and seasonal programs. We went to two great plays - at super low prices! The best perk is spending time with family. I had lunch with my sister Marg, and we enjoyed dinner, Union Square Market, and a comedy show with our daughter Amy. I even attended a Princeton alumni event. We did a lot in just a few days.

But then a small tropical depression in the Gulf of Mexico exploded into Hurricane Milton, and Florida was once again bracing for the worst. Over the next few days, I watched in disbelief as Milton strengthened and Tampa remained in the center of its projected path. Many Tampa friends were still clearing the debris from Helene and ripping out their drywall when the evacuation orders were issued for Milton. I was worried about my in-laws, who had refused to evacuate for past hurricanes. Fortunately, Steve’s sister Sandy and her daughter Zoë were there in Apollo Beach for a visit, and persuaded Mom and Dad to evacuate with them.

It felt strange to watch Milton’s approach from over 1,100 miles away. Around me, New York City life went on. While people in Florida braced for the second hurricane in less than two weeks, people in New York City conducted vigils and protests: it was one year since the Hamas terrorist attack on Israel. I tried to focus on being in New York City, but my heart was still in Tampa. I checked Facebook incessantly for updates from friends and from trusted local weatherman Denis Phillips. After more than 100 years without a direct hit from a major hurricane, it looked like Tampa’s luck (or magical protection from ancient Native American burial grounds) had run out.

On October 9, just 13 days after Hurricane Helene, Hurricane Milton made landfall near Sarasota, just one hour’s drive south of Tampa. There was plenty of damage, but Tampa was spared from the worst case scenario. Once again, we checked in with family and friends. Thankfully, our parents were fine, and there was no loss of life for anyone close to us.

As people continued to pick up the pieces from two devastating, back-to-back hurricanes, I counted my blessings. I was thankful we had decided to sell our home, reduce our possessions to just the essentials, and start traveling. Life-changing events like hurricanes are wake-up calls that remind us that life is short, and unpredictable, and precious.

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