Amid calamitous forecasts, and warnings of a “Frankenstorm”, Hoboken battened down the hatches. Sandbags were deployed, windows taped — despite being an ineffective countermeasure, the hospital evacuated, and trains cleared out. Shortly before 5pm, the City ordered a mandatory evacuation for all ground-level apartments by midnight.

The Hoboken Terminal parking area and tracks flooded briefly, due to the high tide and beginning surge, but receded for the moment.

The storm proper arrived October 29, a Category 1 hurricane with winds gusting to 90mph. Many went down to the waterfront to watch, forcing Hoboken PD to close down the area. A 4pm vehicle curfew was put in effect, followed by a 6pm general curfew. That evening the flooding began, driven by heavy storm surge and an above average high tide.

Parts of Hoboken do flood from time to time. Areas that are below sea level cannot drain during heavy rains and high tides. Sandy was different, bringing surprisingly little rain to the area (a different story further south), but lots of wind and the associated storm surge.

Through the night, there were reports of downed powerlines, electrical fires as circuits shorted, fire alarms being set off by the rising water, and injuries caused by makeshift lightning and heating setups. Emergency personnel did their best, but the floodwaters made responding to calls difficult; an ambulance and other emergency vehicles stalled attempting to help people in quickly flooding areas.

A responder on the radio gave a dramatic account of the incoming flood, reporting that the water was “flowing with a current” down the street. The water continued to rise, closing off Newark St and Observer Highway to the south, and 14th and 15th streets to the north. Two firehouses had to be evacuated, the personnel regrouping on the high ground of Washington Street.

By 8pm, the hospital had shut down, surrounded by water and unable to take any patients.

By 10pm, floodwaters from the north and south connected, and Hoboken became an island again.

A green flash in the sky to the north signaled trouble. The northwest substation had been flooded. Streets went dark, to audible groans. Not long after midnight, the water stopped rising, and the Mile Square city settled in for a night as a feature of the Hudson River.

Hoboken woke up half submerged, up to five feet deep in some places. Residents who could leave their buildings ventured out to survey the damage and take stock. The water had begun to recede, but approximately 20,000 were still trapped by the mix of brine, fuel, and sewage that had inundated the city. Some joked darkly that Hoboken had become a “shitty Venice”.

Phone service was down for many, but for those who could connect, Twitter and Facebook became essential channels of information, with residents and officials sharing damage reports, distributing information, and organizing manpower.

On request of Mayor Zimmer, the National Guard arrived with supplies and high-water vehicles to rescue those still stranded in flooded areas.

Cell service was still down. Many found signal at the piers, connecting with towers across the river. Pier C was heavily damaged, but other parks were still usable, allowing kids to play soccer. Some ran around in costume, though trick-or-treating was effectively cancelled. Governor Christie formalized this with an executive order moving Halloween to November 5.

Some stores opened up, with bouncers of sorts at the doors to control the number of people inside. Shoppers found items by flashlight, and paid only in cash.

The few homes that still had power put out extension cords and power strips so other residents could come charge their phones. A Verizon truck, on site making repairs, also provided outlets for people to plug in to. Several other places with generators set up charging stations with snacks and coffee.

Ferries began running from the 14th street station, for the moment the only non-car option for getting to Manhattan. Anderson Cooper was in town covering the crisis. [Odd being the place in crisis others are reading about.]

Night made Hoboken very, very dark. Many businesses that had manage to open simply closed at dusk. The lights from Times Square across the river actually did help illuminate the sky, but only a little. The magnificent view the Hoboken waterfront has of Manhattan was made even more incredible by the sight of two cities, one business-as-usual, and the other only a black silhouette against the sky.

Hoboken continued to pull itself together. The floodwater was almost gone, but dipping temperatures were becoming a real concern. Food trucks, some local and others from as far away as Baltimore, offered free meals around the city. FEMA was in town, providing organization and material support, including fuel for emergency vehicles, and information about applying for aid. Volunteers took food and water to elderly, and staffed the shelters in town. Others created crowd-sourced maps of the resources available.

The A&P opened up, running a generator to power the registers and even the card readers. The beeps of the barcode scanners were a welcome sound. Unfortunately, the Shoprite took a beating, and remained closed indefinitely.

That evening, there were reports of power being restored to some areas. PSE&G had reenergized the portion of the grid connected to the hospital. Those on the same system got power. Relief for some, but frustrating for others still wondering when their power would be restored.

Dry, but cold, Hoboken woke up to a fourth day without power. More food trucks had arrived, and PSE&G was offering a charging station with internet, as well as ice. More stores opened, a few even using the old credit card sliders to accommodate customers with cards. Mobile ATMs were brought in. UPS and FedEx trucks could be seen making their rounds, but USPS mail was still not being brought into the city.

At 2pm, Mayor Zimmer held the first of daily community updates, starting with sobering information about electricity. She explained that PSE&G had jury-rigged the grid to get the hospital powered, and that the rest of the city had to wait on repairs to the substations. Most of the city would still be without power through the weekend, possibly until the middle of the following week. Zimmer also announced that the Navy and Army Corps of Engineers had just arrived to repair the south ferry terminal, and hoped to have it ready for the Monday commute. Without the PATH, which was heavily flooded and out of commission indefinitely, many were unable to get to work.

School board Vice President Ruth McAllister announced schools would be kept closed through November 6, to allow for repairs and restoration of power. As the meeting turned to questions from the community, many were wondering about the upcoming elections. The Mayor explained that they would happen as scheduled, at already announced locations. Polling places with severe damage, such as the Boys & Girls club, would have structures built adjacent.

Cleanup continued, garbage trucks running in a limited capacity.

Crews could be seen working on the substations late into the night, drying out the transformers and replacing equipment.

Late in the night, there were reports of a gang of “hoodlums” robbing someone in the dark. Police were out in force with batons, maintaining order. It seemed the dark streets would become dangerous and lawless. But, hours later, power was restored to even more areas, bringing on streetlights, a sign of hope sooner than expected.