Fugitive at the Beach House

In the face of tragedy, we move forward

It seems unreal that almost a week has passed since the effects of Hurricane Sandy were felt on the East coast of New Jersey. The storm made landfall on Oct. 29 and life on the barrier islands here will never be the same.

The photo at right shows our street, Seventh Avenue, Ortley Beach, to the far right. The iconic Joey Harrison's Surf Club is at the lower right. My home is at the top right of the photo, a white house with a small white house behind it. Ocean waters filled them both, blowing out windows, tearing off our new roof in sheets, and filling our yard with debris from other homes.

I'm not yet sure of the extent of the damage, but our home is still standing. Those that held a coveted place along the ocean front have disappeared, or been moved to a new location by furious ocean waves. This destruction was repeated all along the barrier islands and my heart breaks for my neighbors.

Homes were not the only things lost; dreams, times shared with loved ones, security for the future and the sense of accomplishment and pride that owning a home or a business provides were washed away or pummeled into the broken pieces of our lives in a matter of moments. For those of us who have not been allowed to return to our homes because of the dangerous surroundings, seeing the destruction only in newscasts or on the internet, there is still a sense that this is all a nightmare; surreal, maybe we will wake up and things will be as they were. 

Still, we wait anxiously to be able to return and gather together something of what might be left, or assess whether there is an opportunity to repair or rebuild. The waiting, and worrying, gnaws away at our hearts and minds, making it difficult to carry on with the rest of our lives. But there is work to do even now.

While we wait for word about changing conditions in Ortley Beach and the surrounding areas, and hope we will soon be allowed over the bridges, there are a number of things we can do to prepare to file insurance claims and applications for FEMA assistance with as much information as possible. “Doing something” also gives us a sense of having some control over our lives and moves us toward making plans for the future.

First: Call your insurance companies and ask what needs to be done to begin the claim process. Have insurance policies and numbers handy when calling and keep all information together in a water resistant folder. File an application with FEMA at 1-800-621-3362 or on-line at disasterassistance.gov. If applying on-line, print out completed application and confirmation number and add to claim folder.

Second: Draw up an inventory of every item you can remember, one room or area at a time, including inside and outside areas. Include item description, and estimated value, if replaceable at all. Don’t forget items in sheds or in trunks of vehicles that were destroyed. Include an estimate for all food stuffs lost, as well.

Third: Search for photos that will serve as “before” pictures for all areas of your home and property and items lost. If these photos are already on your computer, copy them into a separate folder for Hurricane Sandy claims. If they are on your camera, upload them to a computer file immediately. If you do not have computer access, take your phone to CVS or Walgreens and ask them to put photos on a CD for you. The cost is nominal. Save all photos on a back-up flash drive as well, and keep in safe (memorable) place. If photos are on paper, scan and save copies to computer file, or take photos to local CVS or Walgreens, or the like, and have copies made. Write all contact information and identifying information on the back of each photo so they may be sent to your insurance company with your claim.

Fourth: Gather together those items you will need to return to your home, even if just for a brief time to get belongings, secure your home, or do some clean-up. Include facemasks (medical or contractor); heavy duty gloves; heavy duty plastic bags; duct tape (don’t leave home without it); measuring tape, notebook, pencil, antibacterial wipes, bandaids and paper towels. Depending on how residents will be allowed to return (driving own vehicle or being bussed in, etc.) you may want to bring a shovel to remove sand. Wear heavy soled shoes to avoid being injured by stepping on debris. Bring bottled water.

Fifth: Charge cameras (and phones) and, when allowed to return to home, take photos of house from all angles, outside, and if home is safe to enter, take photos of every room and all belongings. Include sheds, fences, and vehicles. Videos are a good option, as well. Take photos before beginning clean-up or repairs or demolition.

Sixth: Stay close to your faith community. The emotional and spiritual support will be invaluable. in this time of stress and need. Remember, this is a time for us to embrace each other as members of one community; to share our resources and be blessings to each other. Don't hesitate to ask for help, express your emotions, or extend your hand to help someone else. These are all steps to recovery.

Keep abreast of press releases and email notifications from Ocean County, http://www.co.ocean.nj.us/ and Toms River Township, http://tomsrivertownship.com, or 732-341-1000. If you are still without power and cannot access email or the Internet, ask a family member or friend with power to keep you updated.

Additional links: Ocean County Department of Emergency Management: http://www.co.ocean.nj.us/EMMgmt/Main.aspx

New Jersey Office of Emergency Management: http://www.state.nj.us/njoem/

American Red Cross: http://www.redcross.org/nj/tinton-falls

National Weather Service: http://www.weather.gov/

 

A beach dog's lesson about living in the moment

In the morning fog, as early fishermen cast their lines into the rolling surf, I caught a glimpse a large dog digging furiously in the sand near his owner. I stopped to watch as the digging went on, accompanied by furious tail-wagging.

 

At first I thought he might be looking for something, or perhaps burying something, but as time went on I realized he was simply digging for the sake of digging.

 

His doggie delight was apparent and I could imagine, in an anthropomorphic kind of way, him humming a little ditty to himself, “I’m digging! I’m digging! Life is good! I’m digging!

Every once in a while he would stop for a second and look down the miles-long expanse of beach before him. I imagined his audible sigh of delight at the unlimited opportunity that lay ahead, and then in an instant he would return with fervor to the task before him.This was total immersion in the experience. This was living in the moment. This was something I have too often failed to do.

 

Popular holistic physician Deepak Chopra explained the phenomenon of losing track of time:  “I think that (passion) is a very important component, to have passion, to have a dream, to have a purpose in life. And there are three components to that purpose, one is to find out who you really are, to discover God, the second is to serve other human beings, because we are here to do that and the third is to express your unique talents and when you are expressing your unique talents you lose track of time”.

 

Dogs, unlike people, instinctively express their unique talents, and digging is one of them! They also have fewer impediments to living their passion and living in the present than people do.

 

When I stop to reflect on it, I have to acknowledge that my thoughts are often preoccupied with the past – things already over and done with, words already spoken, mistakes already made. But then again, I often spend many thoughts on the future – when things will get better financially or plans for repairing the house or things that might go wrong or situations that I just want to see improve.

 

These thoughts often distract me from my work or keep me awake at night. They are not productive but, rather, drain me of energy. It requires concentrated effort on my part to dismiss them from my mind and enter fully into the experience in which I find myself at any particular moment.

 

Still, I have noticed, there are some special times when, without effort, I find myself totally immersed in the joy of the present of moment. These are times when minutes seem to move by at lightening speed but I am unaware of their passing. These are times, most often, when I am writing, or practicing a piece of music, or gathered around a table with family or friends sharing food and drink, stories and laughter. These are all times of great blessing.

 

“ ‘Present-moment living,’ getting in touch with your ‘now,’ is at the heart of effective living,” writes Dr. Wayne Dyer. “When you think about it, there really is no other moment you can live. Now is all there is, and the future is just another present moment to live when it arrives. One thing is certain, you cannot live it until it does appear.”

 

You don’t have to tell that to the dog on the beach!

Hopefully, Ortley Beach will continue to be a great place to vacation, but probably not this year

For the past 13 years, we have encouraged visitors to consider Ortley Beach as a place for a wonderful vacation, offering photos of our home on the Ocean block of Seventh Avenue as a place to rent. Now, standing amid the devastation from Hurricane Sandy, we know that such invitations take a back seat to a long period of recovery for this town, and the whole of the barrier islands.

I am grateful for grassroots organizations like Stop FEMA Now, who are asking and demanding answers to the hard questions, while home owners/tax payers either begin the process of restoring their homes or sit in limbo as they try to decide what decision regarding their homes will be the least financially and emotionally damaging.

Some of the wonderful places just around the corner from us -- the bagel shop, ice cream parlor, deli, restaurants, laundry mat, Chinese restaurant, and Barnacle Bill’s seem to be in various stages of recovery.  We are delighted to be able to frequent Bakin' Bagels whenever we get some time to work on our home. Not having electricity or gas prevents cooking, of course, so hot coffee and great food are always welcomed for hard working home owners and their crew of families and friends.

While the Seaside Heights boardwalk is now officially open, and I am happy for the business owners there who have lost so much, it just raises more questions for me on why my community is still so far away from recovery.

Originally I believed whole heartedly that the spirit of the Ortley community is strong, and things would return to normal, but in reality even the strongest of spirits can become weary when the number of obstacles to overcome become too great.

Still, we are moving forward with restoring our home and plan to be there as soon as we can get it all together, hopeful that our neighbors will be in a place to do the same, and won't just walk away leaving the devastation behind them.

It's not a vacation without salt water taffy!

When did it start? Probably the first time I took the first of my six sons to a New Jersey boardwalk. I had never seen the ocean until I was a college student. When I was first introduced to the boardwalk in Point Pleasant I was mesmerized, and hooked.

I'm a transplant from upstate New York but it didn't take me long to catch on to the best traditions of New Jersey! Diner food, lighthouses, amusement parks, boardwalks and the great foods that came with them -- hand cut salt and vinegar fries, funnel cakes, pizza, Kohr's Custard, cheese steak with peppers and onions (my husband's favorite) and saltwater taffy!

We pass by all the candy stores until we get to Berkely's on the boardwalk in Seaside Heights. It's great. After filling up a container or two for our family, I always buy a few smaller boxes as gifts for the friends who got left behind! They're open all year, so once in a while, as winter is approaching, we'll make a drive down and pick up a stash.

It's funny how rituals become a part of our lives, even on vacation. You can see it when you observe how beachgoers choose their spots, set up their chairs and blankets and coolers. Some develop a daily routine: stake out the "sight," make camp, grab coffee, a bagel and the newspaper and settle in. Of course,there's the beach badge shuffle ritual, getting the most people on the beach with the fewest beach badges!

Then there's the supermarket run, the B & B run, the bakery run, and the liquor store run; who works the grill, who makes the macaroni salad, and who' putting the kids to bed. And now that our children are adults, and staying up till the wee hours of the morning, our vacation rituals definitely include Sangria and Coors Light (not mixed together!), and something new, Torched Cherry Rum!

No matter how you "do" vacation, I hope you enjoy your rituals as much as we enjoy ours!

Times of struggle need times of solitude

Here, at the shore, there had been time for making pie, a beautiful thing with golden brown crust and fresh, succulent blueberries. Unfortunately, the cat thought so, too, and in the whip of a tail the counter resounded with purple as in a display of children’s finger-painting, and the remnants of pie resembled a vat of paw-pressed grapes. I sighed.

Still, it was pie, none-the-less. With my eyes closed I slipped one salvaged morsel in my mouth, remembering a morning standing at short stocky bushes plump with blueberries and picking until my fingers took on the hue of distant mountains at the close of day. Gratitude welled up in me.

I must find joy in my life as it is, because it is mine, and I know it is mine by the generous hand of God. Such knowledge makes ignorance impossible as an excuse for failed gratitude and cast away blessings.

Seagulls offer a lesson in honesty

Stop that seagull!!  

My voice was barely audible over the beach winds and waves, but my gesturing caught   the attention of a friend opposite me who nearly flung herself out of her beach chair onto the sand to retrieve a brown bag full of Bakin’ Bagels being dragged toward the water by a very large and brazen seagull.

He had been standing next to her chair for an hour, sizing things up, waiting for a crumb to fall, darting forward at our slightest movements, and when he couldn’t stand it anymore he charged forward, grabbed the bagel bag and had it almost out of reach before we knew what happened.

 

And he had friends.

One of them stood directly in front of me, almost on my feet, in a stare-down the entire morning. He seemed experienced in his attempt to weaken my resolve, as if his beady little eyes would entice me to drop a morsel or two for his benefit.

 

But I stayed strong, and he called for reinforcements.

Bending his head forward between his legs, I thought he had a strange way of checking out what was behind him, but I soon learned it was the ordinary prelude to a volley of loud seagull honkings.

Almost immediately I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly realized that we were now surrounded by seagulls who seemed to be putting great effort into acting nonchalant.

But we knew what they were up to.

 

With seagulls, there really is no acting. Their motive is always obvious, in spite of their best efforts. It’s all about the food.

 

With people, motivation is not always so clear.

The inclination to use our wiles to get what we want is strong. But in those times, when we give in to the inclination, we put aside honesty, we compromise our integrity.  When we resort to cunning and deviousness, embracing “the end justifies the means,” we move away from the true nature of the human heart.

 

Now, if you’re talking bagels, you can be certain to get a real, honest-to-goodness true-to-its-nature bagel from Bakin’ Bagels in Ortley Beach.

That’s why it’s one of my favorites.

 

 

The joy of simplicity

Hanging on the wall in a quaint gift shop in Lavalette, New Jersey, is a hand carved wooden sign that reads, “Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be joyful.” The black and white photo shows an elderly work-worn woman, hair piled high on her head, wearing a full apron covered with the remnants of recent pie-baking. She stands in the doorway of a tired wooden shack, the old-fashioned baking utensils and mottled pottery are visible through the door. She is smiling; a deep, satisfied smile.

It is a wooden frame filled with the sepia image of simplicity; harkening back to a time when hard work was the norm, but meaning and satisfaction were the fruit of your labor.

It may be a romanticized vision of life “back then” but that small sign drew a lot of interest from customers.

 

There’s no doubt simplicity is appealing. It’s the antithesis of a culture that has our heads spinning. Stress and the lack of civility seem to be the fruit of this day and age. Images of simplicity encourage us to remember that the most meaningful things in life are not the wealth and success for which our culture entices us to strive, but those moments when we nurture joy and respect for the human spirit.

 

How we do that can be as simple as giving a pedestrian the thumbs-up instead of the “finger” when they cross in front of our car; taking our cell-phone conversations outside when we are in a library, restaurant, bank or book store; using the trash receptacles on the beach instead of treating the shore like an ashtray or garbage can. It can mean living with gratitude for ordinary blessings and everyday necessities.

 

Adapting an attitude of simplicity helps reduce stress and keeps the rude and crude part of our natures at bay. And if the media has its way, rude and crude will forever become the hallmark of the Jersey Shore.

 

For me, however, this little gift store, its staff and owner, reflect the gracious hospitality that is the true nature of the Jersey Shore. That’s why it’s one of my favorites.

Breakfasting with dolphins

Breakfast at the Sunrise Cafe in Ortley Beach is always a treat. Fortunately for me, I only have to go out my front door, take a few steps and Im there. The food is great. The staff warmly pleasant and accommodating. Both important attributes for customers who haven’t yet had their morning coffee!

It’s also a wonderful place for a writer like me to decompress and absorb the restorative energy of the ocean. It’s enchanting. But when the dolphins show up, it’s not only the writer who is enchanted. Across the tables, breakfast chatter quiets, forks go down and attentions are strained for a better look at these amazing creatures.

What is it about these spirits of the ocean that captures the heart and imagination? Why are so many compelled to stop the ceaseless running of time even for a few seconds just to get a glimpse of these free and powerful mammals?

Perhaps they are a déjä vu for the human spirit, calling to our sacred nature, our sense of what was and what could be if we were to nurture our hearts and souls as much as we do our minds and bodies. Dolphins are at home in the primordial waters of creation. Mystics of the sea. Perhaps they are what each of us has the capacity to be—one with creation.

Whatever the allure, a few minutes of dolphin watching is an added treat at breakfast.

And if you decide to stop in at the Sunrise Cafe, try the Sunrise Special.

It’s one of my favorites!

 

Art Linkletter would have been proud

Today as I was wandering around the local five and ten in Lavalette, I overheard a conversation between a mom and her young daughter who was maybe 5 years old. The mom was giving her a rundown of the day, "We'll go the beach and relax, do a little shopping, get something to eat."

With barely a second's pause the little girl responded, "Well, I guess life is good."

Kids do say the darndest, and truest, things!

Keep your eyes on the seagulls if you want the fish

Having moved from the status of Benny to that of Local during the past few years at the Jersey shore I thought I had a pretty good handle on shore life.

But one late afternoon walk along the beach in October taught me that I had a lot to learn—about fishing.

Leaning on the boardwalk rail, I watched what I thought was a strange phenomenon unfold. Groups of fishermen and fisherwomen were all decked out with their fishing stuff along the water’s edge—coolers, rods, bait, boots and heavy socks, warm and waterproof clothes and a real enthusiasm for what they were undertaking. There seemed to be lots of good natured bantering going on and everyone appeared settled in to their own spot on the beach.

Then suddenly, as if some voice heard only by people with fishing poles had loudly announced, "STAGE LEFT," the whole group began moving in unison down the beach. I looked around to see if I had missed something; a brawl maybe, or a turned-over kayak, anything that might have spurred the group, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Thinking it was just a fluke, I repositioned myself against the railing and continued my daydreaming.

Not five minutes later, the whole group again began their shift down the beach.

"What the heck is going on?" I thought to myself, again trying to figure out the impetus for the sudden move.

When it happened a third time I finally experienced the "AHA!" moment.

Seagulls.

It seemed everyone but me knew that when seagulls hover, or swoop and dive, over a spot in the surf, there are fish. When the birds changed position so did a beach full of people.

As I was watching I thought of Jesus’ words, "I will make you fishers of men."

Now, more than 2,000 years later, we are a Church filled with people called to be fisher men and women, but we often remain uncertain as to where to cast our lines.

But the signs are there. What is required of us is attention.

From his deathbed in 1963, Pope John XXIII emphasized a conviction which stood at the heart of Vatican II: "It is not that the Gospel has changed; it is that we have begun to understand it better. Those who have lived as long as I have …were enabled to compare different cultures and traditions, and know that the moment has come to discern the signs of the times, to seize the opportunities and to look far ahead."

The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, one of the documents coming out of the Second Vatican Council, relays the same thought, "… the Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting them in the light of the Gospel … We must therefore recognize and understand the world in which we live, its explanations, its longings, and its often dramatic characteristics."

As the people who make up the Body of Christ we must continue to discern the signs and embrace the opportunities we have to be light in the world; we must look hard and honestly at our longings, personally and communally, and consider how the fruits of those longings are manifested, for good or for ill. We need to ask ourselves what influences affect our families, our communities, our schools, our attitudes, our behavior. How can our response in faith make a difference?

I’ve discovered that it is not enough to rest comfortably against the railing and daydream. We must be awake and aware and enthusiastic enough to actually fish if we are to make a difference in our world, in our families and in our Church. Otherwise we will be left behind on an empty beach while the secular world moves along—with our faith in tow.