Australian General Semantics Society Inc.

   

                

 


Robert's trip to New York
for the Alfred Korzybski Memorial Lecture -
a "personal account (Part 2)"

25 October - 6 November 2012

 

 

(Continued from Part-1)

Arriving at length at my nominated shelter, I followed clear signs and processes to be registered and issued with a New York Ports Authority blanket and directed "down stairs".  It was all routine, friendly and efficient ("Do you have emergency contacts, Sir - any medical conditions ... ").  The halls were sparcely occupied with people on "cots" (ie stretchers) and people on the floor on blue blankets. There were all sorts of people, many children, and a special hall for the many dogs, cats, ferrets and budgerigars in cages etc.

Shelter 1

Looking around for congenial company, I set up next to "Virginia", who was reading the New York Times and Patricia Cornwell's new novel Red Mist, on loan from the NY City Library. She had a huge knowledge of the printing and publishing industry and had worked in numerous interesting jobs.  I did not ask why she was homeless, judging that I would find out in due course if I just listened. People kept arriving all through the night, more cots arrived, and I procured one in due course.

I amused myself on Monday in Central Park and other attractions, although many were closed, as the storm approached, with gusty wind and rain.  I squandered $2.99 (plus tax) on an umbrella, but never opened it for fear that it would be shredded. 

Preparing

Monday night was rather tense, with dire warnings of Sandy coming up the coast, killing people, destroying buildings and crops.  As more people poured into the shelter, it became quite crowded.  A call went out for volunteers to pack-up and go by bus to another new shelter "up-town".  They disappeared, but returned shortly, as a crane had collapsed in the excitement, on the 75th floor of a new building, and blocked the road there.

Shelter-2  Crane

As the Sandy intensified, around 1am the electricity went out.  Dogs were barking, kids were crying and screaming (many had never experienced "darkness" before"); it was a while before the emergency generator gave us some pale light.  That soon failed as well, so there were just a few flashlights (torches) etc.

Just when people became a bit settled, the calm was shattered when water started pouring through the roof.  Cot-dwellers scurried to escape the deluge, and bins and mops were sought to contain it.

Shelter 3

I also made friends with Jonathan (aged 22), who had no food or blankets etc, but just his guitar and the complete anthology of Beatles sheet music. He also seems to know by heart the complete text of the recent publication "Conversations with God", which I've been listening to on cassette, and the links to Greek mythology etc. Homeless because, as he said, he could never keep a job "because I couldn't get to work on time". Over the three days, I had marvelous conversations with numerous extraordinary people there.

In the morning I climbed up to street level amongst the wreckage. This area was not flooded, but there was lots of damage and debris. The Halloween ghouls and goblins which had infested the streets were all gone on Tuesday night - I thought they might have been swept into the Hudson River or carried up into the Stratosphere ...

I spent the day wandering around, and returned to the shelter for the third night. My companion was becoming more fearful, revealing that "they" had deliberately killed the lights when she was in the toilet (sorry-Restroom), and Hillary Clinton was pursuing her. I didn't press here on these startling revelations, but spent more time with Jonathan and others.

After some hours of unusual conversations with unusual people under stress in this unusual place, I went for another long walk about 10pm, and discovered the dark-looking Affinia Hotel.  It had a spare room, but only dim emergency electricity in the corridors, none in the guest rooms.  So I trudged back to the shelter (where there was no difference between night and day), packed up and bid my farewells to Virginia and Jonathan, and back to the Affinia.  I felt rather guilty leaving them to their aparitions and Army rations in the dungeon.

It was rather strange settling-in to a hotel room with only a tiny light coming in from the open door to rhe dim corridor, and fully dark in the unfamiliar bathroom.  At least the bed and the hot water were working!

Over those days, the buses and some museums etc came back to life, but not the trains. Many buildings were damaged by flood or wind, many had no electricity, and many had no staff able to get to work.

Central Park closed at first, later opened, but filled with broken trees being cleared.

Park

There were some curious ironies. After the Frankenstorm, as it was called, when walking at night, I saw a little shop brightly light by a generator, with people sitting up having their fingernails trimmed and hair cut, sipping coffee, and chamber music playing. Outside, the intersections were lit by magnesium flairs with the NYPD directing traffic, National Guard personnel carriers and Army fuel tankers in the street, sodden mattresses and broken furniture piled up and a homeless person huddled in corner of the footpath under a wet blanket.

Wouldn't you think that an airport and the city's taxis would be able to withstand a little storm-surge ...

Airport   Taxis

It wasn't all wet and busted and grim: Shops were operating by candlelight "hurricane parties" started up, and dogs were kitted-out to brave the tempest ...

Party                    Dog

People in my experience were businesslike, polite and friendly, filling the theatres and coffee shops, apparently in search of solice. People who lived on the 60th floor of apartments without electricity or water carried their dogs and babies down the stairs and spent the day on the streets, and up to their apartments again at night. So coffee shops and other amusements were much in demand.  The CIA Museum re-opened after some quick patch-up of storm damage, to my great relief.

On a tourist bus I encountered a couple from Gunning (near Yass), and everyone I spoke to seemed to have some connection with Australia. When wearing my "Australia" jacket, I met Ma and Pa Middle America at a cafe, who said "You must be here for the New York Marathon!". I assured them that I took this as a compliment, but No, that would be my son Adrian who's the Marathon runner!

Before leaving Canberra, I had promised my employer that I'd keep a low profile in New York, and not cause any trouble. However, by my return a week late, I'd left behind a bit of a mess. I'd deprived a couple of hundred people of their lives, 10 million people of electricity, flooded the underground trains and road tunnels, cancelled the buses, taken out the New York Stock Exchange, cancelled the New York Marathon, shifted the coastline so that the Coney Island Roller Coaster was now part of the Atlantic Ocean, moved the New Jersey coastal sandhills inland to engulf the suburbs there, sank the sailing ship Bounty, destroyed hundreds of houses by fire, evacuated several hospitals, displaced hundreds of thousands of people, mobilised the National Guard, brought down the Chief of the CIA in a marital scandal, and almost toppled the Government (and other mischiefs).   I'd gladly confess to these sins if I thought it would help resolve them.

Blackout       Bounty

In fact, President Obama and his government were praised for the speed and adequacy of their response, unlike his predecessor George Bush with Hurricane Katrina a few years ago. Cynics may wonder, of course, whether there's a difference in the visibility and status of New York City compared with racially distinct, poor, and flood-prone districts of New Orleans ...

Following the hurricane, I felt rather guilty wandering around as a tourist (albeit a hurricane refugee), from a relatively comfortable and secure situation looking into the lives of people in real crisis. It was certainly a reminder that we should consider where our security really comes from.

I was dismayed by my failure to observe, in US Presidential debates, any mention of climate change or sustainable development.  People I talked with were amused to note that in Australia, "climate change" had been a topic central to mainstream political debate for many years; we now have a national "carbon tax" and plan to move to a cap-and-trade system harmonised with the European Union over the next few years.

I wonder if I'll go to the AKML and Symposium next year ... ?

~0~

 

 

(Updated by RJ 19/11/2012)

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