Published: February 2, 2011

On Dec. 26, our beloved New York City was hammered with over 25 inches of snow as a storm originally projected to drop merely 6-8 inches escalated into a two-foot nightmare. Normally, the city’s response to snowstorms is fast and effective. Closed streets and sidewalks mean less tourism, less open stores and less money changing hands. Yet the city’s response to the storm was nothing short of abysmal.

All of the boroughs lacked the required amount of snowplows and salt trucks needed to adequately clear all of the streets. However, some boroughs took the hit harder than others. Brooklyn remained buried for days as sanitation trucks could do little to clear the narrow streets. Downtown Manhattan became a ghost town full of abandoned cars, buses and emergency vehicles. Queens residents were forced to fend for themselves as most transit lines were shut down for days after the storm. Yet Staten Island, my hometown and the forgotten borough, arguably took the greatest hit of all.

So what was my story? To be frank, it was one of sheer anger. Nothing is better than snow on Christmas. Conversely, nothing is worse than waking up the day after Christmas and having your neighborhood draw a striking resemblance to the Star Wars planet Hoth. I proclaimed loudly that weathermen are always guessing, they are liars and that we will get no more than 8-10 inches because the news would rather guess higher than lower. Well, after shoveling over 28 inches of sheer irony off my porch, my shovel broke. “Not to fear,” I thought, “I’ll grab another!” Turns out our only other shovel is three feet tall; I’m 6’5”.

After countless obscenities, moments of shooting back pain and overall disgust toward Mother Nature, the house was cleared and I could again return to sitting and doing nothing. During our most hectic times at school, we all claim, “I want to do nothing,” “I can’t wait to go home and just sleep,” “I hate being this busy!” Yet, we fail to realize that sleeping and doing nothing is great for about a day. After that, the house becomes a prison. Television loses its appeal. The words in books begin to blend together. Monopoly games turn into property law court cases. My three days could not have been more in tune with this scenario.

As Monday rolled around, most of Staten Island still had not been plowed. We continued to hear horror stories on the news of people stuck on the train for hours on end, stranded in their cars on bridges and even a death as medical services could not make their way down streets. Yet nobody was talking about us. My animosity towards the Sanitation Department and, more importantly, Mayor Bloomberg, began to reach an all-time high. I respect the Sanitation Department, they deal with a lot of garbage day in and day out (pun intended), yet something was afoul. They were better at their jobs than this storm showed. Rumors of a conspiracy began to hit the Internet. And then, I saw the ugly truth for myself.

After walking back from my girlfriend’s house nearly a mile away, I saw two Sanitation trucks making their way toward my block. A wave of relief began to ripple throughout my mind. Freedom. Only the snow wasn’t moving, it was still on the street. They Weren’t Plowing It. WHY ARE THE PLOWS UP?!?! The Sanitation Department was telling the Mayor to shove his recent department cutbacks and venting their frustrations through not plowing. I was angry. I understood why they did it, but I was angry. Yet the pure fury was released after Bloomberg’s major press conference. After arriving an hour late, not providing the news reporters or the city of his location throughout the storm and informing the city to relax and catch a Broadway play, I was surprised that people didn’t take to the streets to mob City Hall. Then I remembered, their streets aren’t plowed.

Finally, on Dec. 28, salvation came. A plow finally cleared my street and brought freedom to the neighborhood. Acts of nature are not the fault of city officials, but the aftermath and clean-up are. Has the city learned anything from the storm? Have we? Fordham has; they offered a delay until 10 a.m. in anticipation of a storm. Bloomberg declared an emergency before a flake hit the floor. Fear is a powerful force, and so is Mother Nature. I’ll remember that next time around. Hopefully the city does, too.