We started at the Brooklyn waterfront just hours before the storm was to make landfall. A brave few hopped police barriers to see how powerful the winds would be on a pier in the middle of the East River. But walking across the Williamsburg Bridge in the middle of the storm was really experiencing the power of nature. You could feel the bridge ripple in the wind. We ventured back out the morning after the floods. Manhattanites were leaving in exodus. The bridge was more crowded than I’d ever seen it. At night, it was even more surreal. A city that never sleeps was abruptly put down — no power below 34th Street. We rode through canyons of darkness as these monolithic buildings carved out black rectangles against the sky. There were signs of life here and there but mostly just the headlights of cars navigating the dark streets without traffic lights. After four days, the power was restored last night. New York City is slowly returning to normal, but the unfortunate residents along Jersey’s shore, Staten Island, Red Hook, and Rockaway have a long way to go.