We're in This Together by Linda Sarsour

We're in This Together by Linda Sarsour

Author:Linda Sarsour
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Salaam Reads / Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2022-11-29T00:00:00+00:00


National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

SuicidePreventionLifeline.org

1-800-273-8255

Pacer Center’s Kids against Bullying

PacerKidsAgainstBullying.org

It Gets Better Project

ItGetsBetter.org

STOMP Out Bullying

StompOutBullying.org

Kids for Peace

KidsForPeaceGlobal.org

Stop Bullying

StopBullying.gov

The Bully Project

TheBullyProject.com

Cyberbully411

Cyberbully411.com

CHAPTER 16 Hurricane Sandy

On October 29, 2012, Hurricane Sandy pummeled the New York metropolitan area and the New Jersey shoreline.

My childhood house shuddered, rain pelted the windows, and wind whipped around the roof and howled as it sent debris somersaulting down the street. Unable to sleep because the wind and rain sounded so frightening, we watched, awestruck, as the tree limbs whipped back and forth and tree trunks swayed under the wind’s force.

“Look how fortunate we are to be together,” I reminded my children as we huddled in my parents’ house.

Knowing the storm was coming, the night before I’d taken the bookshelf, TV, and china cabinet—everything located near a window—in our apartment and pushed them to the middle of the room. I feared the wind itself might blow out my windows, or the humungous tree outside might either break some window panes or, worse, fall on the house. We lived in a low-lying area of Bay Ridge, but I thought our second-floor apartment would be spared from any flooding. Still, I packed my kids up and went to my parents’ house, since it sat on such high ground. So did one of my sisters and her kids. We waited for the disaster to come. If anything went wrong, we knew it would be better if we were all together.

Whoa! Did you see that? a friend texted me sometime during the night.

No, what happened?

I’m not sure, but a fireball just flashed across Lower Manhattan.

My thoughts quickly flashed to September 11.

Whoa! I hope everyone’s okay.

At daybreak newscasters began to report on the devastation. Throughout New York, water had risen over boardwalks and promenades, washed over highways, cascaded down subway steps, and flowed into subway tunnels. An electrical transformer on Fourteenth Street had exploded, creating the fire my friend had texted about, and the lower half of Manhattan had been plunged into darkness.

Video of one neighborhood in Queens showed orange licks of flame whipping through the darkness from house to house, setting one hundred homes on fire.

In Brooklyn we had been lucky.



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