I have family and friends with homes in New Jersey. They took hits ranging from wiped out to new normal. Among them, my brother, who has a house on the Jersey Shore. It surely didn’t dodge a coastal bullet. I called. Both his Philadelphia number and his Sea Isle number. No answer. Several times. His cell number had changed since he retired, and I didn’t have it.
We contacted my niece. My brother and sister-in-law were fine, she reported. They really didn’t know the exact state of things at the Shore because they were out of town, couldn’t do anything about Superstorm Sandy and, well, life goes on. It would just have to wait. First things first. That’s because they were already in South Bend, Ind., getting pumped for the Notre Dame game, where the Fightin’ Irish would stay unbeaten by edging Pittsburgh 29-26 in triple overtime on national TV. In my family, that pilgrimage, let alone that “Shake down the thunder” comeback win in a magical season, qualifies as a major consolation even within the context of a natural disaster.
“Look for my dad around the 10-yard-line,” suggested my niece.