I went to Cape May once, Atlantic City twice, New York City a handful of times. Places of national iconic memory as well as personal.
I have also survived hurricanes. I know about their massive deadly power, the way they stir the sea. When you are waiting for a hurricane you pray two prayers–God, keep people safe and God, not us.
Most people don’t like to admit to the second one. It is a selfish prayer, a prayer of survival.
I think of the Krims. Their perfect storm was providing kindness to a stranger they thought they knew. The waters will recede, cleanup will restore the streets of New York, but each minute of each day will be a terrible hurricane of loss for an ordinary American family.
My prayers remain, just as I pray for all those who struggle to survive the violence of loss, another kind of fierce and deadly storm.