Thursday, August 16, 2007
Storm reveals New York City’s vulnerabilities
LOOKING AHEAD by Wally Dobelis
It is surprising how much of New York’s infrastructure problems a sudden three-inch rainfall will reveal. Obviously, the MTA drainage system cannot cope with a sudden flood, not at a time when the city’s sewer pipes are also overfilled. Hurricane Frances in September 2004 caused the sewers to backwash into the subways. That has been corrected, and the MTA’s 289 pump rooms have been rehabilitated (the last 18 due to become state of art by 2010), and the city spends $300 million a year to redo the sewage pipes and build a new storm water drainage control, which currently may overflow if a storm drops more than 1 ½ inches of water over a short period of time (that’s my estimate of the sewer pipe capacity). Meanwhile, problems of subway maintenance neglect have also surfaced – such as trash accumulations in the roadways that clog the filters and flood the rails. The recent history of storms disrupting subway service – three in the past seven months - obviously raises the fear that the greenhouse effect on climate, as evidenced by increasingly stronger storms in 2005, and particularly the destructive surges of waves, as Katrina and Wilma, might flood and heavily damage New York, the city built on rock and thought to be impervious, at least to earthquakes. There is a plan proposed by a group of scientists led by Prof. Malcolm Bowman of SUNY’s Stony Brook, to build massive surge barriers across the Narrows, East River and Staten Island, on the models of Netherlands, London (the one across the Thames has been used 70 times since 1982) and Venice. These are true barriers that will be closed when a storm approaches, not just deflectors in the Atlantic that would take away from the impact of the leading wave. The overall rise in the ocean level cannot be avoided, according to the reputable scientists at Columbia’s Center for Climate Systems Research, who conservatively estimate a rise of sea levels of five inches by 2030 and 10 inches by 2050 (there are more dramatic numbers cited by other sources).
NYC takes the threat seriously, as evidenced by a pamphlet from the city’s Office of Emergency Management that identifies three levels of evacuation zones for New Yorkers, depending on the strength of storm, and suggests that those threatened keep Go Bags and Emergency Supply Kits (include duplicate keys, copies of documents), and think of places and people to stay with during major floods. The threatened areas include all of the business and residential districts in Lower Manhattan, the East and West side areas three and four blocks from the rivers, and much of Brooklyn, Queens and Staten Island waterside, as well as Long Island. In T&V Country, the threatened area at maximum exposure extends from East River to Park Avenue South. More detailed analysis will follow. As to the events of the subway floods of August 8, your reporter was lured into the underground by reports of good downtown service on the BMT Line. Surprise, the R train’s PA system at Lafayette and Canal Street station declared that the next stop would be De Kalb Avenue in Brooklyn, throwing us downtown-bounds in a tizzy as we exited and walked up the steps. Canal Street looked forbiddingly truck-bound, but, swiftly running through the traffic into Centre Street, then walking some long blocks and hopping an iron dog fence I got through, eventually to the Municipal Building, where volunteer informed passersby that only Brooklyn-bound trains were available. Uptown was closed off. Across the street, City Hall looked forbiddingly deserted and bleak in the full sunlight, and I asked a guard whether the workers had heeded Mayor Bloomberg’s warning and stayed out. His diplomatic answer led us into discussing ecologically sound driving habits. Escaping that, and moving along Park Row and past the JR Electronics empire (their streetside pamphlet racks advertising computer gear were completely washed out), I reached Fulton Street. The usual curbside tee-shirt and purse vendors were out in full strength, most of them also offering specials on umbrellas. The usual crowds were thin. A right turn into Williams Street brought me to Maiden Lane and the Fed Reserve building, with the three-story Louise Nevelson black metal statuary guarding it. Asking the policewoman on duty for the park’s name, I learned that she did not know nor care, since the sculptures were Chase bank property. A couple Chasians standing nearby pointed to a Legion Memorial sign but had no clue of the sculptor. What happened to the Nevelson Plaza? Walking east on Maiden Lane, the Chipotle Mexican Grill on corner of Pearl Street had a sign of 12 AM belated opening. It had attracted a line of white-shirted and necktied office workers. The everyday informal office apparel season of the dot.com era seems to have had its run, Wall Street has clamped down on casual gear. That’s my sociological observation of the day. The trip home was normal, the subway had recovered.
It is surprising how much of New York’s infrastructure problems a sudden three-inch rainfall will reveal. Obviously, the MTA drainage system cannot cope with a sudden flood, not at a time when the city’s sewer pipes are also overfilled. Hurricane Frances in September 2004 caused the sewers to backwash into the subways. That has been corrected, and the MTA’s 289 pump rooms have been rehabilitated (the last 18 due to become state of art by 2010), and the city spends $300 million a year to redo the sewage pipes and build a new storm water drainage control, which currently may overflow if a storm drops more than 1 ½ inches of water over a short period of time (that’s my estimate of the sewer pipe capacity). Meanwhile, problems of subway maintenance neglect have also surfaced – such as trash accumulations in the roadways that clog the filters and flood the rails. The recent history of storms disrupting subway service – three in the past seven months - obviously raises the fear that the greenhouse effect on climate, as evidenced by increasingly stronger storms in 2005, and particularly the destructive surges of waves, as Katrina and Wilma, might flood and heavily damage New York, the city built on rock and thought to be impervious, at least to earthquakes. There is a plan proposed by a group of scientists led by Prof. Malcolm Bowman of SUNY’s Stony Brook, to build massive surge barriers across the Narrows, East River and Staten Island, on the models of Netherlands, London (the one across the Thames has been used 70 times since 1982) and Venice. These are true barriers that will be closed when a storm approaches, not just deflectors in the Atlantic that would take away from the impact of the leading wave. The overall rise in the ocean level cannot be avoided, according to the reputable scientists at Columbia’s Center for Climate Systems Research, who conservatively estimate a rise of sea levels of five inches by 2030 and 10 inches by 2050 (there are more dramatic numbers cited by other sources).
NYC takes the threat seriously, as evidenced by a pamphlet from the city’s Office of Emergency Management that identifies three levels of evacuation zones for New Yorkers, depending on the strength of storm, and suggests that those threatened keep Go Bags and Emergency Supply Kits (include duplicate keys, copies of documents), and think of places and people to stay with during major floods. The threatened areas include all of the business and residential districts in Lower Manhattan, the East and West side areas three and four blocks from the rivers, and much of Brooklyn, Queens and Staten Island waterside, as well as Long Island. In T&V Country, the threatened area at maximum exposure extends from East River to Park Avenue South. More detailed analysis will follow. As to the events of the subway floods of August 8, your reporter was lured into the underground by reports of good downtown service on the BMT Line. Surprise, the R train’s PA system at Lafayette and Canal Street station declared that the next stop would be De Kalb Avenue in Brooklyn, throwing us downtown-bounds in a tizzy as we exited and walked up the steps. Canal Street looked forbiddingly truck-bound, but, swiftly running through the traffic into Centre Street, then walking some long blocks and hopping an iron dog fence I got through, eventually to the Municipal Building, where volunteer informed passersby that only Brooklyn-bound trains were available. Uptown was closed off. Across the street, City Hall looked forbiddingly deserted and bleak in the full sunlight, and I asked a guard whether the workers had heeded Mayor Bloomberg’s warning and stayed out. His diplomatic answer led us into discussing ecologically sound driving habits. Escaping that, and moving along Park Row and past the JR Electronics empire (their streetside pamphlet racks advertising computer gear were completely washed out), I reached Fulton Street. The usual curbside tee-shirt and purse vendors were out in full strength, most of them also offering specials on umbrellas. The usual crowds were thin. A right turn into Williams Street brought me to Maiden Lane and the Fed Reserve building, with the three-story Louise Nevelson black metal statuary guarding it. Asking the policewoman on duty for the park’s name, I learned that she did not know nor care, since the sculptures were Chase bank property. A couple Chasians standing nearby pointed to a Legion Memorial sign but had no clue of the sculptor. What happened to the Nevelson Plaza? Walking east on Maiden Lane, the Chipotle Mexican Grill on corner of Pearl Street had a sign of 12 AM belated opening. It had attracted a line of white-shirted and necktied office workers. The everyday informal office apparel season of the dot.com era seems to have had its run, Wall Street has clamped down on casual gear. That’s my sociological observation of the day. The trip home was normal, the subway had recovered.