Hurricane Sandy hit New York City when I was a sophomore in high school.  I can barely remember the darkness of the sky or the howling of the winds, but the ominous feeling that surrounded that week is something I will never forget. While a week without school is something any student would normally be overjoyed about, there was an air of unsettlement. Every day, we waited to see if the greatest city in the world was truly great enough to overcome the devastation. And every day, we learned more and more about just how much damage was done.

Eerily enough, my street was not damaged. No power lines went down, no flooding occurred, no windows were broken by debris in the high speed winds. Yet stepping off my little side street was like walking into a battlefield. The streets around us had all lost power, large tree branches had crashed into more than a few houses, and cars were either dented from flying garbage cans, or partially submerged. My parents went out during a moment of calm in the middle of the storm out of curiosity. They said the air was scarily still, and scarily quiet. After the storm, this air returned.
This air killed the vibe of Halloween and was still around by the next weekend. A friend had her quincenera scheduled for that Saturday, and half of the guests didn’t show up due to the storm. Even her best friend missed the party due to the gas shortage. While it was a fun night, it was very unsettling to be the only car on the highway for long stretches of time. While I am lucky to not have been impacted heavily by the storm, it was an eye opening experience. It was the first time I had felt the city fall to its knees since 9/11.