1999

Image courtesy of PopSugar

I'm not really big on New Year's Eve celebrations. To me, it's a great excuse to get a good night's sleep and enjoy a day off from work the following day. But one New Year's Eve I remember well was December 31, 1999.

Many of us remember Y2K, when we feared aircraft would fall from the skies because the onboard computers would crash, not being able to compute the date change to 2000. There were no disasters, but plenty of media coverage and Y2K paraphernalia everywhere. Our family spent the holiday in North Carolina with my dad and stepmother. It was lots of fun ... my brother PJ was furiously working on the home computer there to make it impervious to any Y2K glitches. Beth, my stepmother, had '2000' sweatshirts made up for all the ladies.

This memory was sparked by hearing Prince's '1999' on WPFW on Saturday. What is WPFW, you say? That's another post, which I'll work on very soon.

I won't bother embedding the Youtube link for the official 1999 video. It's there, but without audio. As one Youtube commenter notes, it's the Milli Vanilli version. So dust off your LP or CD, or crank up your mp3 version and rock out. I'm going to do that tonight myself. And then I'll get a good night's sleep.

When '1999' was released in 1982, the year 1999 seemed light years away. And yet when it did finally come around, I had two children, a house and cat. I was in grad school studying journalism and very busy indeed. I wouldn't have conceived of any of this back in 1982. Just goes to show that life is endlessly surprising.

I hope you have a happy 2013.

Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Post Script

P.S. A few artifacts from our time on Staten Island.

Here is the clothing I wore, bagged and ready to throw out. I purchased boots, socks, a hat and gloves for the trip over the Thanksgiving holiday in North Carolina at Tractor Supply Co. (I misplaced the gloves after Day 1.) I threw away these items, and my old jeans, after I returned. We were working around asbestos, and I don't want to give those particles even the slightest opportunity to spread in my apartment or my lungs. The Ariat boots kept my feet warm and dry. I recommend them highly.

I found the golf ball lying in the grass between the NYC emergency management HQ stationed in the Midland Beach parking lot and the sanitation department's makeshift dump. The cabinet door is from a built-in closet at the Davis residence. This door was up by the ceiling, where the floodwaters did not quite reach. I initially wanted to keep the door as is, showing the dust created by the clean up effort. I've reconsidered, however, and will scrub it clean. I really want to be extra cautious about asbestos contamination.

And the artifact I am most proud of:  the sledgehammer I used to remove sheetrock from the ceiling in the bedrooms and to demolish the little built-in closet. (I can only note the irony that I am now writing a post about destroying a built-in closet in the very blog where I have spent so much time praising the beauty and utility of built-ins. See My Favorite Room.) Tom and Barbara brought it back with them and later presented it to me as a gift on Christmas Eve. They added a brass plaque to it with an inscription of thanks. I will treasure this object forever. It commemorates our trip to the Island and the time we shared there. It also reminds me of the struggles and challenges I have faced this year, and how I have been working to overcome them. 

Watch out. I am stronger than I look.

Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Parts One, Two, Three, Four and the Epilogue.

Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Epilogue

A New York subway sign, found at the Davis residence
during clean up on November 27, 2012.

Many families on Staten Island continue to struggle two months after Hurricane Sandy made landfall. Unlike the Davis family, some don't have an another home to take refuge in while FEMA, the city and the insurance companies decide what the future holds for their properties. They are forced to live out the winter inside their battered homes. Already, they are dealing with snow, wind and the cold. Christmas and the New Year probably do not hold much promise for them.

A group of experts led by Housing and Urban Development chief Shaun Donovan met in Lower Manhattan on December 13 to discuss the broader picture that New York City and all coastal communities must address.

According to an article published in The Atlantic Cities, Donovan emphasized disaster mitigation to protect coastal inhabitants:

'This type of more thoughtful planning process ensures that we ask ourselves, Can we rebuild what was here before? And more importantly, should we?' said Donovan. 'These questions are not just complicated from a construction and planning point of view. They cut to the heart of how we define [our] communities and what gives us a sense of place.... We need to harness this momentum to address weaknesses we've known about for years. We have to recognize that homes that wash away and substations in flood zones must become a thing of the past.'

Are we ready to make these types of difficult decisions? And will the momentum continue, or will it get buried under different disasters and other headlines?

One final point. I want to note that Staten Islanders are incredibly warm and funny (Tom and Barbara Omholt are Exhibit A). Their sense of humor and companionship with one another could go a long way to helping them get through the coming years of hardship. During my two days of service, we had a great time joking around with April Davis, even though her childhood home and nearly all of its contents were wiped out just one month earlier. She was angry, but she wasn't feeling sorry for herself or her family. She was just trying to find solutions to each challenge, one at a time.

I spotted this hilarious restaurant sign, above, from the Omholts' car as we left the Island that Tuesday afternoon. I really wish I had taken a photo of the entire side of this building on Hylan Boulevard. It was covered with several other signs advertising authentic homestyle cooking from around the globe.

A great sense of humour, a strong sense of family, and nourishment from meals shared with one's closest friends can go a long way to helping anyone get through hard times. It has certainly helped me.

Staten Island residents, hit again by flooding, question next move, from the Staten Island Advance.
New York City Still Struggling to Recover, from the The Journal of Light Construction Coastal Contractor.
Even the World's Top Experts Aren't Sure What to Do to Prevent Another Sandy, from The Atlantic Cities.

Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Parts One, Two, Three, Four and the Post Script.

Friday Morning Music: Lean on Me

Inspired by my discovery of the wooden stars on Hunter Avenue on Staten Island, here is the 1973 live version of Bill Withers singing 'Lean on Me'.

One stanza in particular has special meaning for me this year:

Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you won't let show

You just call on me brother, when you need a hand (Chorus)
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that you'd understand
We all need somebody to lean on

'Lean on Me', from the album Still Bill reached number one the week of July 8, 1972. According to Withers' official website, the West Virginia native recorded with the likes of Booker T. Jones (Booker T. & The MG’s), Stephen Stills, and Benorce Blackmon (The Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band), among many others. 

'Lean on Me' was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2007.

Bill Withers:  The Everyman Singer with a Poet's Soul
Still Bill: 5 Bill Withers Covers
Bill Withers:  The Complete Sussex and Columbia Albums

The Kitchen

I finished setting up the kitchen a few weeks ago. It just needed a roman shade to help cut down on the glare and heat of the afternoon sun. The venetian blind couldn't handle this task alone, which gives you a sense of how intense the western sun is in my high rise location.

The graphic black and white awning stripe fabric is from Ikea. I had the folks at Strosnider's cut down a 2" pine mounting board for me. I still had plenty of nylon cord, screw eyes and Velcro leftover from roman shade projects in both of our houses.

The starting point was a black and white palette. Details include an Italian cookie tin as a utensil holder, a tomato can as a spoon rest, and chalkboard paint on my grandfather's jelly cabinet. I've finished it off with several photos of and artwork by my kids, and a still life watercolor that I made many years ago.

Bethesda, Maryland

As the sun set one recent evening, I saw an opportunity to capture images in my office using a combination of available light from the studios and the halogens in the reception area.

All photos copyright 2012 by Alexis H. Mueller.

Greetings from Statin [sic] Island: Part Four, wherein the title is finally explained

1943 post card showing the Outerbridge Crossing, which connects
Staten Island to Perth Amboy, NJ.
Image from Metuchen Edison History.

And now you will finally learn why the title of this series is misspelled.

Two days before I was due to leave for the trip to Staten Island, my dad sent an email to me. Concerned for my health and safety, it ended with, "Be careful on your trip to Statin Island."

His message was so sweet, but I just couldn't stop laughing. My father is rather famous in the family for his creative spelling. Later that evening, my stepmother wrote in response (just to me, of course), "Don't you just love it? Sounds like a place where people with high cholesterol live!"

Well, as I discovered, the folks of SI do love their cooking. We passed a wonderful assortment of restaurants and markets on our way to and from the Midland Beach neighborhood on Monday and Tuesday. I noted that the Island's residents have an intense focus on cooking that comes from the old world. I saw more family-centered ethnic eateries than chain restaurants and grocery stores.

Roger Branstiter, a member of our St. Paul's crew, had his own observation about the forgotten borough of New York. "Basically, you need a passport to get on and off Staten Island."

It's different. In fact, it reminds me so very much of my home town of Endicott, New York, back in the 1970's:  heavily populated by Italian and Polish (or in this case, Russian) immigrants who are hard working, proud and mostly Catholic. Except for our little Lutheran enclave, of course. I really like the fact that the Island doesn't seem to have been homogenized by world events and popular culture over the past 35 years.

At any rate, Roger is right. Staten Island is a world unto itself. And before Hurricane Sandy, I suspect it was mostly happy to be the forgotten borough.

Previous posts:  Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Final posts:  Epilogue and Post Script.

Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part Three

By mid-afternoon on Tuesday, I needed another breather. Our work was going to wind down for the day and I really needed some fresh air. So I removed the mask and gloves and went for a walk with my iPhone camera ready to record what I saw. I wanted to get a better sense of the context in which the Davis residence lay, and also to see how the storm affected other parts of their neighborhood.

This sign appeared on a storm fence surrounding the wetland
area shown immediately below.

Just 50 yards from the Davis residence, I found this wetland area, shown above and below. I believe this helps to explain at least part of Joe's concern about storms and flooding. As the Staten Island Advance article states, he "had a vivid premonition several years ago that a major storm would hit Staten Island." According to the article, this led to a failed attempt to shore up his property against such a possibility.

Tires and other debris rest in the wetland area on Freeborn
Street just yards from the Davis residence.

Flooding should be of great concern for residents of this neighborhood. Rising sea levels might very well change the Island's landscape in the next 100 years.

Freeborn Street, flooded after just a half day of steady, moderate rainfall.

I discovered many other artifacts as I walked through the neighborhood that afternoon.

New York Yankees knit hat on the fence of
the Davis' neighbors across the street.

A Christmas card on the ground in front of the
same house. This summed up my feelings, too,
after 23 hours of driving over five days of
the Thanksgiving weekend between Washington
 and North Carolina, and then Washington and New York.

An album found on the ground of the home next door.

More albums; classic 1970s.

Further along Hunter Avenue, a boat unmoored from its berth,
now lying aside a house.

I think this is an MG ....

It always pays to look up once in a while.
I spotted this umbrella hanging from a telephone cable,
deposited by the floodwaters. This is a stark reminder of
the height of the floodwaters.

A garden shed upturned behind a damaged fence.

Damaged homes marked by FEMA.

A garage, still standing.

I continued my way down the street. I could see Midland Beach in the distance. I was drawn to it, and decided to keep walking. I crossed Father Capodanno Boulevard and entered a large parking lot, where New York City had set up an emergency management center. All the official personnel there had taken shelter from the rain inside large trucks. So no one stopped me as I walked by, even though I'm quite sure I wasn't allowed to proceed through this area.

One of the vehicles at the NYC emergency headquarters
 for Staten Island.

The beach and FDR boardwalk were closed to all visitors. I heeded
the sign and turned toward some activity off to the right instead.

There I saw the newly made dumping ground for debris gathered
from the storm. I wonder where this stuff will eventually end up?
I'm sure it's full of lead paint, asbestos, and other toxins.

I appreciate the fact that the images I am publishing here of property destruction are sensitive. They represent people's lives, and possibly I have published photos of properties where the residents may have died. I thank all whose property I have photographed and hope that these photos may help to remind outsiders and Staten Islanders alike that, even when this story moves to the back pages, it will affect these lives for decades to come.

As I had made my way down Hunter Avenue earlier, I spotted these wooden stars fixed to successive telephone poles. I don't know whether these were placed there by an outsider who came in to help, or by a resident.

"You're braver than you believe,
Stronger than you seem."

"Learn from yesterday,
Live for today."

"Lean on me."

For a week afterward, I kept singing the classic Bill Withers tune to myself, over and over again. For any and all who have needed to lean on a friend or loved one this year, as I have done, keep this song in mind and never hesitate to ask for help. That's what the Davis family did.

Previous posts:  Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part One and Part Two.

Next post:  Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Part Four.
See also:  Greetings from Statin [sic] Island, Epilogue and Post Script.