On the personal side, she had never been so content. She was able to spend more and more time with Preston, and with Marcia and P.J., though usually separately. She talked with her mother and grandfather often, had fun with Susan when they could get together, and loved relaxing and playing with Hailey. As if that were not enough, Sean had called several times, and each conversation seemed better than the last.
The only thing that worried her, more than she knew it should, were reports of a Tropical Storm Sandy churning in the Caribbean. She knew she was being silly, living where she did, but she’d never been through a hurricane. The accounts of the havoc wrought by Katrina had been horrific. She told herself not to worry. But as the days went by, updates on Sandy occupied more and more time on the weather channels. What seemed different about this storm were indications from early models that it could actually reach the Northeast—New York City and Boston. She blocked the storm out of her mind and continued to pursue the balance of work and play, never feeling greater fulfillment from both.
By now, there was a real symmetry and incremental growth in her bank stories. An unexpected boost came from a press release Congressman Quinn put out in mid-October. Calling for the elimination of fraud and curbing the wrongdoing in the banking system, he had cited two articles on specific bank schemes of misconduct involving real estate loans and mortgages written by Katherine Kelly of the Twin Forks Press. Katherine suddenly found herself not having to nose around for leads and sources—they instead came to her, even on a national level. She soon realized—and reported—that the schemes she was unearthing at Hamptons Bank had been used elsewhere as well in both community and regional banks, and Sol let her run with the story. Her stories had wings, and they soared.
And, thanks to the rapid growth of her relationships and corresponding leads, she was able to increase her weekly story contribution to double digits. Sure, there were some twelve-hour days in there, some missed meals, and some work on Saturdays and Sundays, but she didn’t care, because readers (and Sol) were giving her positive feedback. Still, the hurricane occupied more and more space in her mind as the media increased the Sandy drumbeat: why Sandy was a different kind of storm and the widespread devastation it could cause.
As families across America were preparing for Halloween, those in the Northeast were busy making other preparations. New York City’s Mayor Bloomberg dispensed pre-storm advice and precautions, as did officials in New Jersey and other areas falling within Sandy’s projected path.
When Sandy slammed into the East Coast October 29 around 6:30 p.m., it was clear that the breadth of the storm—a thousand miles wide—was extraordinary and exacerbated by eighty-mile-per-hour-plus winds. The slow-moving nature of the hurricane and the anticipated rainfall prompted experts to predict extreme flooding. When Katherine heard that Mayor Bloomberg, for the first time in history, had preemptively closed sections of the New York City subway system, there was no doubt how serious the situation was.
That Monday and Tuesday convinced the rest of America as images of flooding and destruction too terrible to imagine were viewed day and night. During the worst of the “superstorm,” as the TV had taken to calling it, Katherine remained with Hailey at the newspaper offices, with most of the other key personnel. They watched the televised images of devastation, as the rest of America did, for as long as their electric power and generators lasted, and they worked to update their online edition. They knew that subways had flooded, boardwalks and piers had vanished, and people in many places in the five boroughs, New Jersey, and Connecticut had lost their homes. Lower Manhattan was partially under water; lives were lost on Staten Island. Southampton suffered as well. While the flooding on Long Island was, for the most part, in the low-lying coastal areas along Dune Road and in Flanders and Sag Harbor, electric power losses were far more widespread, affecting some ninety percent of utility customers across the Island. The residents’ misery was made all the worse by cold, wet weather.
For some reason, Katherine’s apartment had retained power, as did the Twin Forks Press. Susan had power, and so did Preston’s condo. Too many others were not so fortunate. When Sol had renovated the Twin Forks Press building and upgraded its emergency generators a few years earlier, he’d added a stall shower in the men’s room—mostly for employees who cycled to work. But now, a few of Katherine’s fellow employees and their families were waiting in line to use the shower in the early morning hours.
Katherine and the other three full-time reporters met with Sol and Chuck urgently to discuss what they could do to help. Thankfully, countless citizens in the Northeast metropolitan area and from all over the country provided money and assistance in whatever way they could. The power companies were trying to restore power as quickly as possible, but too many went without help for too long.
Many without power or other help in parts of Staten Island, New Jersey, and Long Island felt abandoned, even though the President, FEMA, the governors, and many others appeared to be vitally concerned and promised to do all they could.
Sandy and a subsequent snowstorm on November 7 knocked out power to more than eight million customers in twenty-one states, including two million in New York. A week later thousands on Long Island and elsewhere still were without electricity. Many of Katherine’s readers called, and some wrote to her—telling her they knew she had their interest at heart and needed her help now more than ever.
As the water receded, some even came to the Twin Forks Press office to talk with her in person. One was Norman, a pudgy, middle-aged pool-company employee who covered his balding hair with a red baseball cap. Norman told Katherine he was planning to organize a protest later that day outside National Grid’s offices and dispatch center on Montauk Highway in Water Mill. A growing number of customers were outraged at what they saw as the company’s inadequate response and failure to replace outdated or obsolete management systems to handle large-scale outages like this one. Norman wasn’t sure how many people were going to show up, so Katherine was the only reporter he’d told so far. Another protest against National Grid in Hicksville had drawn large crowds, and he was hopeful that it could happen in Water Mill, too.
It was still early, and most of the other reporters were either not in yet or busy taking care of their homes and families. Katherine found Sol and Chuck in the break room and told them she wanted to cover the protest.
“A lot of our people are without power. You’ve seen the protests. They feel ignored, left out, and that no one’s listening to them. Let’s give them a hand, help them be heard,” Katherine said.
“Thoughts?” Chuck asked.
“Let’s go out there and get video of some of the protesters. Push out the videos on our website and our YouTube channel, too. Let the protesters tell their own stories,” Katherine said.
Chuck hesitated, arguing that they’d already covered the story from numerous angles and they were operating with a reduced staff. Sol listened to Chuck’s objections but in the end gave her the green-light. “Go ahead. Take Esther along to help. You do the interviews, and she can do the editing and uploading on site.”
Katherine checked her watch, called Norman on his cell, and told him she wanted to try to interview some of the residents at the protest. She asked if he’d be willing to help.
“You bet. These people have had enough, and they feel like no one’s listening to them.” She arranged to meet him and his group at 1:30 p.m. and go over everything. She asked Sol if he would mind looking after Hailey.
“Okay, kiddo. Happy to be both your publisher and your dog sitter.”
Katherine went in the break room, downed a couple of cups of black coffee, and thought through what she wanted to cover and how. She wanted subscribers who did have power and Internet connection—even on mobile devices—to like and share the videos on Facebook, drawing attention to what was happening in their own backyards. Much of the attention from the New York media, even WABC-TV and the other local TV outlets, had been focused on Staten Island and other places near the city. Frankly, it was far easier for the outlets to send reporters and TV crews there. Even Newsday, the big Long Island daily newspaper, barely covered the North and South forks of Long Island. The Hamptons had largely been forgotten by everyone but the local weeklies, and Katherine was determined to change that.