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Disaster Response in New York

Released 20 September 2011

If “Good Night, Irene” was the tune of the day when Hurricane Irene didn’t live up to her anticipated destruction, “We’ve Only Just Begun” is the theme song for hamlets, villages and cities along the Susquehanna River in New York and Pennsylvania, as they’ve just begun the long journey to recovery from Irene’s kid brother Lee.  When I was assigned to the Salvation Army disaster relief command center in Binghamton, NY to help tell the story of the response there, I began to drive along the path of river, and what I encountered was mind-numbing.  Miles and miles of destruction, the story repeated over and over again, of water that rose past any previous flood level, surging through anything that dared stand in its path. 

How can I begin to describe the devastation?  A rowboat jammed upright on a porch.  Block after block stacked high with sodden mattresses and couches, ripped-out insulation, and a infant’s brightly-colored walker.  Mud-dusted shrubbery that told its own story of the flood level. 

Numbers tell a part of the story as well.  In Owego, 75% of the homes were damaged by flood waters, and already 180 homes have been condemned, unlivable, destined to become green space, clean space.  Owego’s downtown, quite prosperous by today’s standards, was totally under water, and perhaps as many of 50% of the businesses will not be able to re-open.  All along the path of the river, blocks and blocks of homes in Johnson City, Endicott, and Binghamton may never be livable again.  And that’s only as far east as my drive took me today.

Then there were the bizarre sightings.  Hundreds of Pat Mitchell Ice Cream buckets on the curb.  A garden swing on the river bank, seemingly untouched.   A stuffed Pink Panther perched jauntily on a mailbox.  A six-foot Santa Claus coated in river mud, still waving at those passing by.  

On too many streets, too many neighborhoods and too many communities, the people of Broome, Tioga and Chenango Counties are exhausted.  They’ve been back in their homes for 3,4 and 5 days.  Their whole life has been dragged out on the street for the world to see, or has already been hauled to the landfill.  Wedding pictures, the children’s artwork torn from the refrigerator, and even the refrigerator – all gone. 

Some are still numb, while others have begun the grieving path that will be theirs as the days turn into weeks.  They’ve had initial conversations with insurance agents, building inspectors and FEMA representatives, and now wait to see if their homes are going to be condemned.  That seems to be the hardest part, the not-knowing.  Some are eager to leave, hoping to gather enough dollars to start over somewhere else, miles from the river.   Others want desperately to hold onto their home, the home that had never been flooded before, the home of memories and family.     

Many have come to help.  The Salvation Army has teams from throughout New York and Massachusetts.  The American Red Cross has mobilized and is in action.  The disaster service arms of the Southern Baptists and the Methodists are here as well.  FEMA, the utility companies and many more groups are working ‘round the clock to do what they can. 

Other assistance comes from those the river spared.  Dog food, band-aids, hot meals, masks, and stuffed animals for the little ones have been freely offered.  And water too.  Cases and cases of bottled water have been distributed – at last count, the Salvation Army alone has provided 30,000 bottles of water, so necessary when water has been contaminated.  When the “boil” was finally lifted yesterday in Nichols, there were loud cheers from those preparing meals in the Salvation Army service center at the firehouse.

Water.  Vital for life, yet a destroyer of life when out of control.  One new friend told me that as she wakes up on the couch of her sister’s house, she wonders how the calming waters of the Susquehanna that she’s so enjoyed over the years could possibly have turned into such a ferocious invader.  Together we prayed that there will come a day when her river will once again be a healing stream.  Oh, sister, let’s go down, down in the river to pray. Might it be so.    


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