The path to the train was populated by hipsters cradling big jugs of water in one hand, and twenty-four packs of PBR in the other. Brooklyn would be fine.
Time eating hope away. Daylight receding into the darkest of nights. I see kids, and their broken toys.
Blood and booze run through the gutters with smoke of every variety billowing from the pierced lips of tattooed, dreadlocked maniacs.
It was a sad scene in the wet basements with pieces of Pollack paper machete coming to life in the Hudson River waters.
There was Bobby Kennedy, in the golden beach sunshine, probably paraphrasing his credo that he “dreams of things that never were and says, ‘Why not?’”
Sausage and hard-boiled eggs was suddenly a gourmet meal and a smart one as well. I was able to use the heated water from the eggs to bathe myself.
Suddenly, my mom got all excited. The city wasn’t safe anymore. People started acting weird. I decided to get an ice cream… CLOSED!
A woman invites me into her tent. She shows me around her almost empty ‘house’. A bag of potatoes and a large water container are all her possessions.
While most in downtown Manhattan were out and about trying to gather essentials to live on during their Amish vacations…
Unshowered shadows navigating neon-less streets by candlelight, Diving in the dark to outrun the indoor cold,
This is a collection of some of the most visually compelling photos that capture the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.
