Tag Archives: Hurricane Irene

Compo Beach: Exposed!

The waters have receded from Compo Beach.  So have the crowds.

What remains is incredible to see.

Here, for example, is the seawall along Soundview Drive:

I’d heard stories of how, years ago, the wall was much higher — and the beach much lower.

Now, thanks to Irene’s fury, we can actually see how high it once was.  Many more steps have been uncovered, along with concrete footings buried for decades.

And we can understand that, when it was built, the seawall was actually a “breakwater” — not the ramp it turned into, rocketing water and sand over the top, past Soundview and onto the roads and homes beyond.

Meanwhile, over on Bradley Street — and in much of the neighborhood — the scene looks like this:

In a matter of hours saltwater killed grass, plants and leaves.  Lawns and yards look like it’s mid-October (without the color) — not early September.

Longtime residents say the greenery will return next spring.

That’s many months from now.  This fall, Compo’s usual fantastic foliage will bear a distinctly different hue.

Heavenly App

Just a week ago today, Hurricane Irene pelted us with wind, rain and storm surges.  Nearly every Sunday event in Westport was canceled.

But Green’s Farms Congregational Church — which turned 300 years old this year, and in 3 centuries has never missed a service — kept that incredible record intact.

Green's Farms Congregational Church

At the height of the storm, the faithful — though fewer than usual — populated the choirloft and held prayer books.  It was just like any other  Sunday, since decades before the United States was born.

But parishioners from 1711 —  even 2001 — may not have recognized every aspect of the service.  Minister Dan England preached from his laptop, while congregants shared smartphones to read their pieces and prayers (from notifications they’d received the day before).

Green’s Farms Church adapted to the times.  The colonial met the technological.  And it will be ever thus, no doubt through Sundays in at least the year 2311.

Weathering Irene

When you live near the beach — as Hillspoint Road resident Cornelia Olsen has done for 32 years, not far from Old Mill — you’re used to people walking by.  They point, and make comments about your house and grounds.

“You screen them out,” she says.  “Otherwise, you feel like an animal in a zoo.”

Recently, though, Cornelia had 2 interesting experiences with her push lawnmower.  Passersby — including a guy and his girlfriend, and another woman — started chatting.  They asked questions about the mower.  Cornelia offered to let them try it.  They did, and helped cut her grass.

Days later, Cornelia and her husband evacuated during Hurricane Irene.  When they returned, the seawall was gone.  Debris was everywhere.  Their Lark sailboat was filled with water and sand.

Though the police blocked access to the beach, a constant stream of walkers and cyclists gaped at the damage.

The post-storm scene on Bradley Street, not far from the Olsens' Hillspoint Road home. (Photo/Chris Rueli, Westport Patch)

Cornelia asked a bunch of men in their 40s to help move the boat.  They couldn’t budge it.

The Olsens did their best to dig it out.  A younger group — including a couple of women — wandered by.  One carried a box.

Intrigued, Cornelia asked what was in it.  Turns out it was from a wedding scheduled for the day before — on the Jersey shore.  Of course, it had been canceled.

Cornelia asked who the groom was.  Together, they commiserated about the storm.  Then the group heaved and hoed.  The boat was freed.

Soon, the woman who a few days earlier had helped mow Cornelia’s lawn walked by, with 2 dogs and her boyfriend.  The women hugged.

“What happened to our grass?” the woman asked.

Later, a boy with a ladder strolled past.  It was the Olsens’.  Cornelia’s husband asked for it back.

“Okay,” the young man said.  “But I found it on Compo Beach.”

The storm “rearranged” a lot of things, Cornelia notes.

But it also made for great random encounters.  And for a few intriguing, folkloric stories that will be told over and over again, for years and years to come.

Ski Season

Westport has a long, close relationship with Vermont.  It’s a beautiful state, with a laid-back vibe so different from the rat race we’re used to here.

Vermont is a popular winter destination for Westporters.  So many folks have 2nd homes there, it’s easy to think that every skier at Killington, Okemo, Stratton etc. are flatlanders like us.

Plenty of Vermonters ski too, though.  The mountains are their backyard.  Though it sounds strange, among the many things Vermont needs in the wake of Hurricane Irene are skis and ski equipment.

A Westport woman with friends up north says a number of Vermont children are devastated at the loss of skis, boots and gear.  They’re expensive to begin with — and with everything else going on up there now, almost impossible to replace.

Her family is collecting skis and ski equipment, to make this winter a bit better for Vermont kids.  Donations can be dropped off at 29 Otter Trail (off Imperial Avenue).  The family will transport them to Vermont.

Sending skis to Vermont sounds like sending coals to Newcastle.  But right now– just like coal — skis, boots and poles can warm some hearts.

(For more information, email sfikretpasa@yahoo.com)

Among the many casualties of Hurricane Irene: the Killington base lodge.

Aaron On The MTA

Just a day or two after Aaron Donovan began a new assignment for New York’s MTA — media liaison in charge of Metro North and the Long Island Railroad — bridge pilings on the Harlem River caught fire.  Every media outlet in the city needed Aaron’s ear.

Last winter, a series of snowstorms snarled rail traffic in and out of New York.  Once again Aaron was the man dispensing information, handling press queries, making sure commuters got the news they needed as soon as he could.

Last Monday, Aaron — a 1994 Staples grad who honed his writing chops on Inklings, the school paper — returned from vacation.

Just in time to learn that Hurricane Irene might hit New York City.

Aaron Donovan

As the week went on, the possibility became a probability.  And as Mayor Bloomberg and MTA officials weighed the idea of shutting down the transportation system, Aaron and his colleagues were inundated with a hurricane of work.

Long before the first raindrop fell.

A normal workday for Aaron involves fielding phone calls from reporters on anything related to MTA’s rail lines and headquarters; drafting press releases, writing speeches, organizing press conferences — and managing MTA’s social media outlets like Facebook, Twitter and Flickr.

It’s a dream job for Aaron — a Georgetown and Columbia (masters in urban planning) grad who previously wrote for the New York Times — and though he’s been working like a runaway locomotive since last week, he’s glad he and the MTA are making a difference.

Aaron’s first major task was communicating MTA’s shutdown plans, so people could arrange travel well in advance.  Otherwise, he noted, “everyone would wait, and be on the last train.”

He spent Sunday in MTA headquarters at 45th and Madison — connected to Grand Central through an underground walkway.

As soon as the winds and rain subsided, he had a bigger job:  answering questions about service restoration.

“We depend on real-time information from people in the field and on the tracks,” he says.  The press office was a whirlwind of activity.  He and 3 colleagues handle railroad-related questions; 4 others cover subways and buses.  But in the post-Irene maelstrom, Aaron says, it was all hands on deck.  Everyone pitched in, answering any question about anything.

For the 1st time, MTA made heavy use of photo sharing via social media.  The aim was to show the nature and extent of the damage that MTA crews faced.

Television and radio stations, newspapers and blogs — all needed regular updates.  And morning TV shows want it as early as 4 a.m.  “We can’t start gathering information for them then,” Aaron says.  “We have to be fully briefed already when they call.”

One of the reporters Aaron talks to most is Channel 7’s Jamie Roth.  She’s a ’95 Staples grad — and a friend of Aaron’s since high school.

Speaking of Westport, Aaron says, “I grew up in Green’s Farms — with a view of the Metro North tracks.  I was always interested in the trains going by, and of course in journalism.”

His current job melds 2 of Aaron’s passions:  transportation policy, and public communications.

He enjoys being able to serve the public, and thrives on the energy an event like this past creates.

Still, it’s nice that a hurricane — or a series of snowstorms, or bridge fire — doesn’t come down the track every day.

From MTA's Flickr stream: Grand Central Terminal is eerily empty, on a Saturday afternoon.

Irene Claims 1st Westport Victim: Bogey’s

Thankfully, no Westporters died during Hurricane Irene.

But the storm did kill one longtime institution:  Bogey’s.

The low-lying, golf-themed “grille & tap room” at the corner of Main and Canal Streets — a favorite of casual diners for 17 years —  fell victim to floodwaters of the raging Saugatuck River.

A note on the door announced the closure.

“We had a great run and will miss all of you,” it said.

“Thank you very much for your patronage and loyalty over the years.”

As we clean up from Irene, we’re thankful every human being here is safe and sound.

But many of us mourn the loss of a good, comfortable restaurant that for nearly 2 decades served Westport as a steady, supportive friend.

No Milk Today

Alert “06880” reader Ed Paul reports:

I was at the downtown Starbucks tonight (7 p.m.).  The place looked like it had been looted.  Shelves were empty.  Showcase was empty.  The usual supply of boxes with things to unload was missing.

I asked the manager if they lost their supplies because of the outage.  He said they had power all day, and the lines were out the door most of the day.  Now they were down to their last gallon of milk, and were going to be forced to close because of a lack of it.

I asked (maybe with disbelief) why they don’t go to a store and buy extra milk. The manager told me (with more disbelief) that Stop & Shop, Stew’s, Cumberland Farms, Fresh Market and several delis were either closed or had run out of milk, so he literally had nowhere to buy any.

Apparently in a storm, milk is more valuable than gold.

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Meanwhile, further down Main Street, Jimmy Izzo from Crossroads Hardware posted a short item on Facebook:  “Had my first storm-related return.”  A customer returned some lights, saying, “I didn’t need them.”

Jimmy — who emphasized that 98% of his customers are great — added to his post:  “Well, someone sure could have used those lights.”

The comments from Jimmy’s friends were perfect:

  • “Did the guy who purchased sprinklers on Saturday return them yet?”
  • “I can’t wait to see if people try to return generators.”
  • “That reminds me, I need to bring back salt we didn’t use last winter.”
  • “Can I bring back my barely used roof rake later today?
  • “I’ve got a spare key you made which I haven’t needed.”

Library and Y Are Open…

…so let the charging of electronic devices begin!

The Westport Y adds that non-members are welcome for “showers and respite.”

It’s great that both institutions are so receptive and pro-active to the needs of the community.

And we’re sure that as soon as Maxine Bleiweis finds a way, she’ll add showers to the list of the many services the library provides.

Reading in the showers.

Drips And Drops From Irene

With power back on here at “06880” headquarters — my house — we’re ready to report stories, observations, thoughts and photos from the long-anticipated, the-jury’s-still-out-on-its-hype Hurricane Irene.

Alert “06880” reader Denise Nicoletti reports:  “Several people, including my son Chris and I, were at Starbucks downtown.  A very kind hearted soul went out and bought a power strip for everyone!”

Equally alert reader Andy Kaplan saw a similar Starbucks-related random act of post-storm kindness:  “Early this morning, there were a couple of CL&P trucks repairing power lines at the intersection of Gault and Imperial.  A guy in a Land Rover pulls up, and hands out Starbucks coffee to the entire crew.”

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Very alertly, reader John Karrel emailed:  “The Burying Hill Beach parking area looks more like a bad minor-league infield right now, post-Irene.  I wonder if it’d be worth trying to organize a dozen+ strong types to dig out and sweep off the lot this Friday afternoon, prior to the long weekend?  It would tick one item off what must be a substantial Parks & Rec punch-list/budget.”

I said to myself:  What a great idea!  I’ve got nearly 100 strong boys trying out for Staples soccer right now.  School is off until Wednesday; they’ve got time on their hands, and no doubt would love to impress the coaches work hard.

But it made sense to check in first with Parks and Rec director Stuart McCarthy.  I wouldn’t want to rain on his parade.

Stuart thanked me profusely for the offer.  But, he ventured, it might not be a job for high school boys — as fit as they are.

“I’ve got 2 front-end loaders from Kowalsky down there right now,” he said.  “They say the sand’s almost too heavy for them.”

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John Hooper of Christie’s Country Store was hit by Irene not once, but twice.  He, his wife Renee and son Nash were in Puerto Rico when the hurricane hit that island.  They returned to Westport Friday night, just in time for the 2nd coming.

“My poor son’s 9th birthday was yesterday, and of course no  power,” John says.

“So I packed up the clan (2 employees rode out the storm with us), dodged downed trees in Greenfield Hill and made it to Christie’s, where the new generator was humming along.  Many folk stopped by looking for coffee, food, conversation.  We stayed open till 9;30.

“It’s been the same way today.  I just sold out of ice, and the bakery couldn’t make it — but Chefy was here at 5 a.m., baking bread.”

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Finally:  Metro North had its hands full this weekend (still does, in fact).  So we’re not trying to pile on.

Still, this sign caught our eye.  In its own, strange-spelling way, it manages to convey the essence of the situation, in calm, collected, almost Zen-like prose:

Back To Its Roots

Lloyd Allen’s Double L Farm Stand started out with an actual stand on North Kings Highway.  Next stop:  an actual stand on the Southport line.

Lloyd moved indoors — next to Calise’s Food Mart — last year.

Thanks to Hurricane Irene, Double L is back to its roots.

They’re operating under a tent, adjacent to the still-powerless store.

“We’re having a great time!” Lloyd reports.

His many customers — grateful for great, fresh produce, in a town with many shuttered grocery marts — agree.

Double L Farm Stand is open for business -- outdoors. Julie Gaines enjoys the produce.