Sandy Hits Shore Communities and relief efforts pour out

Hurricane Sandy was the late October surprise that devastated the shoreline communities of New York and New Jersey, knocking out power and pouring a storm surge across some of the metropolitan region’s biggest Jewish communities. Nearly everyone who lives within the designated Zone A of the hurricane evacuation zone designated by the New York city government has a story of storm waters creeping into homes amid the heavy wind and rainfall, trees blocking roads and complete darkness all around.

From my safe perch in the heart of Queens, I read cries for assistance coming from Brighton Beach and Coney Island, where the Brighton Beach Jewish Center, a massive 1920s synagogue that serves as an outreach center for young Russian Jews, had its basement flooded. A few blocks to the east, off of Neptune Avenue, the Chabad-run Friends of Refugees of Eastern Europe (FREE) had its Torah scrolls soiled by floodwaters. Across Ocean Parkway, the Trump Village and Warbasse high rises were dark, with frightened seniors isolated in their apartments by out of order elevators. A mile to the east, police clashed with looters taking advantage of the storm.

For me, the focus of relief efforts in the Russian Jewish communities of Brighton Beach, Coney Island, Sea Gate and Far Rockaway, centered around the flooded outreach center, RAJE- the Russian American Jewish Experience, headed by Rabbi Mordechai Tokarsky and its numerous alums who have taken RAJE seminars, traveling to distant countries to learn about their Jewish heritage and imparting their knowledge to others in the community. My contact person was Esther Lamm, who runs the Russian division of the UJA-Federation of New York, connecting the established element of Jewish leadership with young leaders in the immigrant Jewish community.

Having a car with a full tank, I used this past Sunday to assist Esther in delivering food and clothing to those in need. We met at the Flatbush home of philanthropist Ron Hersh, where Esther set up a command center in the kitchen, with laptops and papers documenting need. In the driveway, volunteers packed items into boxes and bags. I pulled up and received my order to deliver to COJECO, the Council of Jewish Emigre Community Organizations, a UJA beneficiary based in Coney Island.

Crossing Belt Parkway, I entered another world, with sand-covered streets lined up with soiled mattresses and broken furniture, lines of people receiving packages, police, FEMA agents and insurance adjusters jostling amid the crowds, all under a clear sky that would normally host thousands of marathon runners on a crisp autumn weekend.

Pulling up at COJECO, I was pleased to see dozens of volunteers, all young and inspired to do good. At the head of the line, an 82-year-old retiree recalled how her family survived the 872-day Nazi siege of Leningrad, enduring three punishing winters amid ongoing bombardment and starvation. We wished her well and I made two more runs between Flatbush and Sea Gate.

On the edge of New York City, the need was greater. Unlike Brighton Beach, which has a very organized Russian Jewish communal infrastructure, Russian-speaking seniors in Far Rockaway feel isolated, geographically and culturally. With daylight savings creating a shorter day, time was vital in delivering food, clothing and medicine to residents of the 17-story Israel Senior Citizens Housing on Beach 19th Street.

“When I got there, I saw a truck and a few nurses who needed translators,” said Far Rockaway resident Ken Soloway. An alum of RAJE, Soloway is the Assistant Executive Director at Kings Bay YM-YWHA in southern Brooklyn. Using his connections in RAJE, UJA-Federation and the Park Slope-based Congregation Beth Elohim, Soloway made a call for volunteers. “Beth Elohim brought 200 hot dinners, Esther Lamm had the supplies, and soon I was getting calls from FEMA and the mayor’s office,” Soloway said. “The police came to patrol the buildings.” Within three hours, fifty volunteers increased to two hundred. Soloway was viewed by residents and volunteers as a leader. Perhaps that’s something he earned coming from four years in the marines, where he attained the rank of sergeant.

With my gas tank dwindling to half, I rushed across the Marine Parkway Bridge, not knowing that while the toll sign flashed, the bridge was free at the moment, courtesy of State Assemblyman Philip Goldfeder, who successfully argued before the MTA that with the subway out of service and relief workers traveling back and forth, the toll was an unfair burden amid the devastation. “We are taking action to suspend these tolls to make the recovery easier for both Rockaways residents and the people helping them,” Governor Andrew Cuomo said in a statement.

Along the way, I witnessed homes drained by men and women in uniform and flags hanging to boost morale for residents and volunteers. Arriving in Far Rockaway, the bright sun was dimming orange. I unloaded my car and joined other volunteers in translating and distributing goods. The orange sun turned fiery red, in its last shout before darkness set in. With flashlights in hand, we hiked up 16 flights carrying food and water to seniors. Most had evacuated, but for one couple from Moscow and two seniors from Korea. Water was vital, not only for drinking, but also because the toilets were not flushing.

Guarded by police, JASA workers and their loyal home attendants, the seniors recalled the survivor spirit forged in the Second World War and praised the younger generation in keeping alive the sense of community. One retiree, an octogenarian from Odessa, with a thick Yiddish accent and flowing beard, stood in the lobby amid the younger crowd. “That’s my lantern, they said I can take it home,” he said. “But they need it, and I will stay with them until the last volunteer leaves.”