October 28, 2012 changed my family’s life. Hurricane
Sandy flooded my house and I suddenly found myself homeless. Yes, I still had a
house-like structure- but a house
simply can’t be compared to a home. I
can’t express the vast amount of gratitude I feel for the entire TCNJ community
that supported me through the long seven weeks of my family’s displacement. It
still seems odd to call myself a hurricane victim. I am ecstatic not only build
hurricane victims a house, but give them a home!
Sandy brought my entire neighborhood
underwater. Coming home for winter break was filled with stress and uneasiness.
After all, it is not uncommon on Long Island to talk to someone that you
haven’t seen in a while and ask how their house survived the storm. More times
than I would like, they answer that they are in the exact same place as I am. There
was about two feet of water in my first floor. Everything had to be thrown out,
demolished, and completely gutted. Unfortunately, our crawl space, garage,
and yard were also destroyed, along with our shed, hot tub, and pool. To put
the cherry on top, insurance hasn’t exactly been helpful or generous by any
means.
There was mandatory evacuation, so
my family was out of the house and safe. My neighbors that decided to stay told
me that the water covered the street signs, well above my head when standing on
the street. I’ve heard horrifying stories about my neighbors that stayed, and
many of them could have died. Eventually, National Guard was in my area
attempting to rescue anyone they could reach. Every house on my block had water
go into the first floor and it was heartbreaking to come home to find that only
half of the houses, if that, are inhabited at the moment.
I was three months old first time my
parents brought me on our boat. Obviously, I grew up on the water and the beach
was just as much my home as my house is. While I have never been to the Jersey
shore to enjoy the Seaside Heights boardwalk (I’ve only experienced it with
Snookie and Jwow!), I felt Jersey’s pain when I saw beach houses entirely
washed away with nothing left standing, our own boardwalk and beaches that I
grew up on ruined, and even new inlets formed!
While working on the demolition of my own house, I
was strangely detached. My brain couldn’t connect that I wasn’t helping someone
else, but instead tearing apart my own house. During one of the days I spent on
the shore, we surveyed immediate needs and delivered care packages around town.
It is weird to think that at one point, people were coming up and down my dead
end street with deliveries similar to the ones I dispersed around.
Saying that you feel pain versus actually physically
feeling pain absolutely differ. Throughout all of my life, I valued service and
was an extremely active volunteer and coordinator. Coming to Long Island to
find that my house is no longer my home changed everything. I don’t exactly
know how to put it into words, but my value of community engagement has
skyrocketed to a level that it could have never hit without this devastating
tragedy (silver lining!). I feel like the detachment between the volunteer and
the person receiving help is now void for me.
I am so thankful to be a part of Bonner and be able
to take an active role in hurricane relief. If I wasn’t a Bonner, would I have
been so involved with Here for Home? Would I have been able to go to the shore
every weekend? Would I have been able to go to Union Beach and New Orleans? No,
no, and no.
Service kept me grounded when I didn’t have a home
to fall back on. Service at the shore and in New Orleans helps tremendously to
give me a piece of mind when my house is not a home. When construction is done
in a few months, my house will be my home. Until then, all I can do is continue
to serve others.
Regina Zick
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