12ozProphet Exclusive: I Survived Hurricane Sandy
I was burning the 8pm oil at the 12ozProphet studio in SoHo when the power went out. So much for finishing the photography shoot of which I was in the middle. That’ll have to wait for another day. The main concern was getting around the corner to the safety of a well stocked apartment. Psych, You know I started fucking around in the streets! Making my way to Broadway, I was struck by how eerily the blacked out streets of SoHo resembled my vision of the zombie apocalypse.
There were tons of cops everywhere, more than I’d ever seen in one place, but they all had their lights on, making them visible for a quarter mile. I was immediately kicking myself for packing a clean pair of socks and underwear, but not packing some cans in my trunk before driving into Manhattan earlier in the day. Great bombing weather, I thought, and I wasn’t the only one. A pair of kids running down Broome St, cans shaking and echoing through the quiet street, a trio of hooligans in hoodies strolling down Broadway and eying me suspiciously until I passed, then catching some tags, another weirdo on Houston shining me with a flashlight and asking if I was tagging. It was a good night for destruction all around.
Sandy was the king hell bomber of the night however, pissing all over lower Manhattan and fucking the system good and thoroughly. As subway tunnels filled with water under my feet and awnings flipped inside out, packs of idiots were running wild up and down the streets like the Yankees had won the World Series. The word on the street was confusing. I’d heard about a construction crane dangling from a rooftop uptown, that the Lower East Side was flooded, and someone even mentioned that A-Rod would not be in the line-up next season. Having no access to hard facts, I had to take people at their word. Yes, trust the word of the idiot who decided it was a good idea to aimlessly roam the streets in the middle of a hurricane, much like myself.
I ended up not catching any tags, not finding any flooding, not getting crushed by a tree, not getting impaled by a sign post, and not getting decapitated by a stop sign frisbee. With reports of 40 people dead in New York City, I suppose I was extremely lucky. MTA officials have said that storm damage was the worst it has ever been in the 108 year history of the subway system. Millions of residences were left without power and transportation in Sandy’s aftermath, which in a city like New York, is quite crippling. Select trains only started running at 5am on Thursday after having been closed since 7pm Sunday evening. A 3-person carpool mandate is in effect for those trying to drive into Manhattan, enforced by police at checkpoints on the Brooklyn side of the bridges.
Though Sandy was downgraded from hurricane status by the time she hit New York City, she was quite a bitch. Now that the clean up is well under way, the questions must be asked: Is this to be an annual event for New York City? What happens next hurricane season? What will the city do to protect itself from flooding? Be thankful that someone with more sense than me is on top of these questions right now, hopefully someone who wasn’t running the streets during a hurricane like a fool.
Text and Photo: Ethersock