Thursday, August 28, 2003
Downtown Workers Tell Their Blackout Stories - 8/28/03
LOOKING AHEAD by Wally Dobelis
People of the T&V Country had mostly uneventful trips home after the 4:11 PM blackout on August 14, 2003. Our drama was waiting, through the sweltering day, for the return of the lights 29 hours later, at 9:03 PM on Friday, the last section in the city to come back to normal existence. Our plight was made easier by the blackout heroes, a lot of people who worked around the clock, directed traffic with flashlights at night and in the blazing daytime sun, looked after emergencies, helped carry packages and people up the stairs and aided both the infirm and the well.
Suburbanites and people of the boroughs had much harder times getting home.
Ozeddin R, a porter, was stuck in an office building’s sealed freight elevator until 5 PM, when the air became scarce. No one had been able to respond to his requests for help on his cell phone. How he got his fingers between the two door panes he still does not know, but after a few gulps of air through the crack he was able to rip enough of an opening to get through, and back to work, for the next 24 hours. A flashlights helped, and a lot of prayers. By Friday PM the homebound buses were practically empty, and he returned to Coney Island in record time.
Omayra A., a tall willowy brunette, had on her usual high-heel slip-ons when disaster struck. She was trying to walk from the Battery downtown to her mother’s home in the Bronx, and her feet started blistering around 10th St. Luckily a cab took her home, for $25. Three Brooklyn ladies had to pay a home-bound extortionist taximan $60 apiece to be dropped near his home, from where they somehow made it to their respective destinations. The opportunist cabbie kept his actual address a secret.
Dennis L., an accountant who works on an early schedule, made it to the LIRR terminal at Hunters Point and got a seat. Then the blackout struck, and he waited for three hours before the railroad made buses available for his trip to Massapequa. He got home at 1 AM, but had no complaints, this had been a rare opportunity to read the NYTimes, cover to cover.
Ed C. had a more dramatic tale. His 3:45 PM from the LIRR Terminal made it a mile past Jamaica Station before the electricity ran out. Having been told to stay inside (“The juice may come back and kill you”), even after the carriage became stiflingly hot and the side doors had to be opened, the passengers suffered for three hours, then stumbled across five sets of tracks before reaching a highway and walking back to Jamaica. There he and other West Long Islanders looked at lots of East Side LI buses passing them until some kind soul explained that the buses to Hicksville were at a depot a mile or two away. Another trek and they found the depot; at Hicksville he found his Huntington bus and headed home, seven hours late.
Maria O., mother of three, walked from downtown, along 1st Avenue, to across the Willis Ave Bridge, in five and a half hours, to sleep over at her mother’s house. The kids were ok, as the babysitter’s mother lived next door to hers, and was able to call the helper and work out the sleepover.
Sandy H., a Connecticut suburbanite, made it to his oldest daughter’s tiny apartment on 23rd St. So did her brother and sister, and between lack of space and the siblings’ quibbling Sandy hardly got to sleep. The street might have worked better.
The street worked better for Joseph C., a corporate secretary, who took the ferry to Hoboken and had made his bed in the lobby of the Hyatt hotel, when a neighbor’s wife arrived and scooped up both her husband and our hero. He was home by 3 AM.
Arnold B. waited three hours in line at Pier 11 for a ferry that took him to Brooklyn’s Bush Army Terminal, at 59th and 1st Ave. The ferry boats were acting crazy, one returned halfway out, to pick up a Waterways manager, another waited an hour for a key passenger, What saved him was the arrival of a Staten Island ferry, sent to help out. Walking across the bridge would have been faster. After the ocean voyage, he hitched a ride at the Belt Parkway entrance. A young couple took him right home, near Coney Island.Total time five hours.
Tony D. came to Pier 11 for his Hoboken ferry, to find out that the electric railroad for New City, in Rockland County, had no juice. He turned around and went right back to the office, to sleep overnight on his boss’ couch.
George W., a porter stayed overnight at his job, miserable in his sweaty clothes. But at least it was a chance to earn some overtime.
Jose R., a building mechanic, did a 44-hour shift, two regular turns before the 29-hour blackout. He was comforting and escorting elders up the stairs and managing the lobby staff, including Iman D., a doorman who put in a 16-hour shift. Other staff people and tenant volunteers helped.
Athletic Mia C., who usually exercises in a Wall Street gym after work, this time raced across Brooklyn Bridge, got to her new home way ahead of hubby, painted the bedroom in the fading sunlight while waiting for him, and, after his arrival, went out to have a romantic Italian dinner by candlelight. Salad and wine, a happy ending, as were most endings on that long-to-be-remembered night.
More stories of John O'N., Douglas P., Jackie K., Neil G., Ed K., and Joe C. also Ron T. and Dr. P. next time, when I have space
People of the T&V Country had mostly uneventful trips home after the 4:11 PM blackout on August 14, 2003. Our drama was waiting, through the sweltering day, for the return of the lights 29 hours later, at 9:03 PM on Friday, the last section in the city to come back to normal existence. Our plight was made easier by the blackout heroes, a lot of people who worked around the clock, directed traffic with flashlights at night and in the blazing daytime sun, looked after emergencies, helped carry packages and people up the stairs and aided both the infirm and the well.
Suburbanites and people of the boroughs had much harder times getting home.
Ozeddin R, a porter, was stuck in an office building’s sealed freight elevator until 5 PM, when the air became scarce. No one had been able to respond to his requests for help on his cell phone. How he got his fingers between the two door panes he still does not know, but after a few gulps of air through the crack he was able to rip enough of an opening to get through, and back to work, for the next 24 hours. A flashlights helped, and a lot of prayers. By Friday PM the homebound buses were practically empty, and he returned to Coney Island in record time.
Omayra A., a tall willowy brunette, had on her usual high-heel slip-ons when disaster struck. She was trying to walk from the Battery downtown to her mother’s home in the Bronx, and her feet started blistering around 10th St. Luckily a cab took her home, for $25. Three Brooklyn ladies had to pay a home-bound extortionist taximan $60 apiece to be dropped near his home, from where they somehow made it to their respective destinations. The opportunist cabbie kept his actual address a secret.
Dennis L., an accountant who works on an early schedule, made it to the LIRR terminal at Hunters Point and got a seat. Then the blackout struck, and he waited for three hours before the railroad made buses available for his trip to Massapequa. He got home at 1 AM, but had no complaints, this had been a rare opportunity to read the NYTimes, cover to cover.
Ed C. had a more dramatic tale. His 3:45 PM from the LIRR Terminal made it a mile past Jamaica Station before the electricity ran out. Having been told to stay inside (“The juice may come back and kill you”), even after the carriage became stiflingly hot and the side doors had to be opened, the passengers suffered for three hours, then stumbled across five sets of tracks before reaching a highway and walking back to Jamaica. There he and other West Long Islanders looked at lots of East Side LI buses passing them until some kind soul explained that the buses to Hicksville were at a depot a mile or two away. Another trek and they found the depot; at Hicksville he found his Huntington bus and headed home, seven hours late.
Maria O., mother of three, walked from downtown, along 1st Avenue, to across the Willis Ave Bridge, in five and a half hours, to sleep over at her mother’s house. The kids were ok, as the babysitter’s mother lived next door to hers, and was able to call the helper and work out the sleepover.
Sandy H., a Connecticut suburbanite, made it to his oldest daughter’s tiny apartment on 23rd St. So did her brother and sister, and between lack of space and the siblings’ quibbling Sandy hardly got to sleep. The street might have worked better.
The street worked better for Joseph C., a corporate secretary, who took the ferry to Hoboken and had made his bed in the lobby of the Hyatt hotel, when a neighbor’s wife arrived and scooped up both her husband and our hero. He was home by 3 AM.
Arnold B. waited three hours in line at Pier 11 for a ferry that took him to Brooklyn’s Bush Army Terminal, at 59th and 1st Ave. The ferry boats were acting crazy, one returned halfway out, to pick up a Waterways manager, another waited an hour for a key passenger, What saved him was the arrival of a Staten Island ferry, sent to help out. Walking across the bridge would have been faster. After the ocean voyage, he hitched a ride at the Belt Parkway entrance. A young couple took him right home, near Coney Island.Total time five hours.
Tony D. came to Pier 11 for his Hoboken ferry, to find out that the electric railroad for New City, in Rockland County, had no juice. He turned around and went right back to the office, to sleep overnight on his boss’ couch.
George W., a porter stayed overnight at his job, miserable in his sweaty clothes. But at least it was a chance to earn some overtime.
Jose R., a building mechanic, did a 44-hour shift, two regular turns before the 29-hour blackout. He was comforting and escorting elders up the stairs and managing the lobby staff, including Iman D., a doorman who put in a 16-hour shift. Other staff people and tenant volunteers helped.
Athletic Mia C., who usually exercises in a Wall Street gym after work, this time raced across Brooklyn Bridge, got to her new home way ahead of hubby, painted the bedroom in the fading sunlight while waiting for him, and, after his arrival, went out to have a romantic Italian dinner by candlelight. Salad and wine, a happy ending, as were most endings on that long-to-be-remembered night.
More stories of John O'N., Douglas P., Jackie K., Neil G., Ed K., and Joe C. also Ron T. and Dr. P. next time, when I have space
# posted by Wally Dobelis @ 12:03 PM 
