Repete si vous plais (or je ne comprends pas)..."apres moi le deluge!"
For those of you who aren't Francophiles, that basically means a flood came after us. Louis XV (or perhaps his lover, Madame Pompadour) first uttered the phrase, referring to the French Revolution.
However, I'm writing about neither revolutions nor pompadours here. I'm blogging about the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. We're still all recovering -- personally and professionally. It's been a couple of weeks of human survival, of questioning our values, of empathy (or not), charity (or not) and stress.
I've been awed and humbled by the number of people and businesses who reached out to colleagues, neighbors, friends, and event enemies to offer a warm bed or warm office, an electric outlet, wi-fi, referrals to tree removal services or generator installers, and money to help with rebuilding lives.
We New Yorkers (and others in neighboring states and towns) are not generally used to facing and recovering from natural disasters. It's been the best of times and the worst of times as we dealt with trees crashing around us, haunting winds and floods, destroyed homes and offices, lost power, terrified children and pets, closed bridges and tunnels, gas rationing, and a level of anxiety and loss most of us have never before experienced.
But the best of times is reflected by the kind and caring behavior of the thousands of people who made huge sacrifices to get power restored and help total strangers. Some folks did simple things like smiling at other displaced people, unplugging their devices for a few minutes so someone else could power-up, or offering up an empty office as a workspace. Others held fundraisers and donated a percent of their sales to Hurricane-related charities.
The skies have cleared. We're getting back to work. But one can only hope that the compassion and charity and smiles and gratitude live on long after the reign of terror and destruction. Will we go "direct to Heaven or direct the other way?" You decide!
Some interesting links:
Hurricane Sandy by the numbers
Songs of sympathy and endurance