My husband and I are downsizing. In addition to getting rid of furniture, clothing, comic book collections, and abandoning many of the items that I’ve had for decades as I’ve raised my family and lived my life, I have to say good-bye to my Vespa. I purchased this LX150 shortly after I had gotten divorced so many years ago – its seems like another lifetime. The Vespa and I had been through many adventures, and I’d like to share this one with you today. The Vespa company has asked me to write this as a blog entry on their website and I came across it while I was searching my archives for a copy of the title. I’ve got an interested party who wants to purchase it and I’m going to have to let go of the scooter…. but not the memories. The following is what happened in the days following Hurricane Sandy in 2012:
When Superstorm Sandy hit the NYC area, I prepared my home with flashlights, batteries, candles, water and canned foods. I made sure I had a full tank of gas in my car, but what I didn’t realize was I should have gassed up my LX150 and checked the battery too.
I’ve used my Vespa for a little commuting and a lot of summer fun but ‘Summer Jen’ left the tank almost empty and never put it on the trickle charger. ‘Emergency-mode Jen’ had to figure out a way to get gas and find a new battery. Once I realized that in the aftermath of the hurricane, we were also in the midst of a serious fuel shortage, I made it my goal (Day 3, Post-storm) to get my Vespa running to maximize whatever fuel I could find.
I drove my car up to my local Vespa shop (Metro Scooter, Northvale, NJ) after reading on Facebook that they might be open. I got there and the lights were out and there was a Closed Due To Power Failure sign on the door. I got off my scooter, tried the door handle and noticed it was unlocked. I poked my head inside and saw Alan, the owner, sweeping up. He agreed to sell me that battery and as he filled it, mentioned that he couldn’t take credit cards because of the power outage. I asked him how much and I just happened to have the exact amount, in cash, in my back pocket. It was fate. I thanked him, took my battery and drove home.
Now, I’ve never been mechanical. At all. And taking out that dead battery didn’t seem too complicated (“It’s just two screws, mom,” my adult son texted me). Putting the new battery back in, on the other hand, left me a little concerned. I knew that there was something about red and black, positive and negative and neither the twain shall meet. Positive was black, right? If you’re in the black, budget-wise, that’s a good thing, right? And to be in the red is bad – negative? I texted him again. Apparently, red is positive.
I got the battery in, I started it up and noticed that gas was just about on E. The night before my ex-husband had mentioned that he had exactly two gallons at his house in the next town. How convenient. I took him up on his generous offer.
Saturday morning came and I saw a man being interviewed on TV. He was pleading for manpower to help those in affected areas, Day 4, Post-storm. I Facebooked the daughter of a friend that was in one of those areas and she confirmed that yes, help was needed. The drive was about forty minutes and the temperature was in the low-40s. ‘Summer Jen’ rarely rode when it was less than 70 degrees and I knew that I had to assemble some sort of impromptu winter weather riding gear. I layered on a tank top, then a sweater. Over that I put a fleece vest and a three-season fleece lined jacket. On top of that, a heavy-duty all-purpose rain/wind jacket with a double zipper and velcro cuffs. Finished the ensemble with warm hiking socks & boots, a fleece neck gaiter and lined suede gloves and I was ready to go. I packed my trunk, underseat area and backpack with supplies – bleach, gloves, masks, warm clothing to donate, etc. I used my cargo net to lash blankets and the clothing to my passenger seat. I hung another bag of donations on my front hook. I kissed my husband goodbye, promised I would ride safe and off I went. I had an idea where I was going but to be sure, I programmed my Iphone 5 with the address and wore the earpiece in one ear. For all that is said about the Apple map system, I have to say that it worked flawlessly. Siri’s voice guided me throughout my trip, changing the route on the fly when roads were closed due to downed trees and power lines.
That first day spent in Little Ferry, NJ was both heartbreaking and inspiring. This close-knit community truly cared about each other. It was neighbor helping neighbor and stranger helping stranger. People from neighboring towns and states had set up tables and were serving hot meals to the residents. Using my Vespa, I was able to navigate the chaotic streets, filled with mountains of water logged possessions; entire lives, at the curb in front of every single home. Every car in the neighborhood was water logged as well and couldn’t be moved. Trucks with dumpsters on them, utility trucks, contractor’s trucks, as well as many people, filled the streets. I was able to zip in, find where I needed to be and tuck my Vespa into a corner where it wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. I spent the afternoon pulling soaked furniture and personal belongings out from someone’s first floor apartment. The smell of the rancid water is something I will never forget; neither is the kindness and humanity I saw demonstrated that day. I rode home that night exhausted and realizing that it was too cold to raise my dark tinted visor but too dark to leave it down. I had used about ¼ of my tank.
The next morning was Sunday. My husband had left at 7am to go wait on the endless gas lines (it was an even day and an odd/even license plate rationing system had been put in place to control the lines). I read an article that mentioned a few open stations, south of where I live. I emailed the reporter to tell him that I knew of at least one station that was open in the northern part of the county, where my husband, Jonathan, was waiting. I asked him if he needed someone to go out and report on open stations. I mentioned I had my Vespa, and gas wasn’t really a concern. His response was “That would be HEROIC!” and though I thought it was quite the dramatic word to use since it wasn’t too much effort on my part, I donned all my warm layers once again and hit the road. I grew up in this area of New Jersey and know the roads and gas stations very well, so no GPS was needed today. The first station I came to had a line of 25 cars. I pulled over and texted the reporter with the station name, street and town, and number of cars. I had no idea he was posting the info I provided on Twitter, telling them there was a woman on a Vespa reporting live. I spent the next few hours driving, pulling over and sending texts. At some stations, people beeped at me, thinking I was trying to cut the line. At other stations, people gave me the thumbs up, asked me what it was I was riding, some just smiling and nodding their heads. One police officer manning the line asked me, with a smile, if I wanted to race. Out of the forty or so gas stations I passed on my 48 mile journey, 13 were open. I stopped mid-way for lunch with my husband and a friend and to warm up a bit with some chai and an Indian buffet. He said I seemed distracted. I think I was still exhausted. At the same time, I was exhilarated and having fun on this treasure hunt to find open stations. I hit the road after lunch and continued on my way.
By Monday, power at the school where I work was still out. No school, but another day filled with opportunity to do something for someone. Again I loaded up my LX150 with blankets, coats and supplies from my home and I went back to Little Ferry and worked in an emergency community center that had been set up in a huge multi-purpose room at a local church. This room had been arranged to look like a mini-supermarket/supply center. The task was two-fold: take in donations (which were coming from everywhere – trucks pulling up loaded with food and supplies) and put them onto the long tables that were arranged like grocery store aisles; and second, to assist the citizens, who had lost everything, to ‘shop’ for whatever they needed, making sure they took the appropriate amount for whatever size family they were feeding/clothing. It was a long day and I tried to leave before dark, but a traffic mess getting out of town delayed my trip. I ended up in the dark again and was forced to make a detour onto the highway. It was cold, and I was aware that mistakes happen when riding tired, so I actually opened my visor to not only let me see a little better, but to keep me cold and alert. I got home safely, kissed my husband and went to bed.
I just got the call that power is back on and we have school tomorrow, thus ending my volunteer work for the moment. In the past, I’ve seen disasters like Katrina and hurricanes and tornadoes in the US where towns have been destroyed and I’ve made my Red Cross donations and said “Gee, I wish I could do something more,” and really wondered if I could be motivated to take action if disaster struck where I could physically access the area. Having my Vespa allowed me to drive right into the middle of where help was needed. Fuel was of little concern and when I did finally need fuel, I took my little 2-gallon gas can, stood on line, got gas, filled my tank and got on line again for two spare gallons.
Things I’ve learned:
- If you use a dark tinted visor, have a spare clear visor handy.
- Keep your tank filled and your trickle charger on. You just never know.
- Be prepared and trained to break your own rules. Though I don’t care for driving at night or on the highway, in the future I will do it more frequently in order to keep my skills honed. In an emergency, both night driving and highway driving are crucial skills, even for the usually recreational local rider.
- Social media such as Facebook and Twitter, as well as text messages are extremely effective communication tools when cell phone towers don’t function.
- There are so many beautiful, giving people in the world that I have come across in the past week. People who have spent days and nights away from their own affected families, working in these areas. My faith in humanity has been restored.
Tomorrow a nor’easter is supposed to hit our area. 50 mph winds, snow and a storm surge, again. My newly married daughter and her husband are evacuating their home on the water, again. They’ve spent the past week in the cold, cleaning up from Sandy. I’m over an hour away from the Shore community in which they live and it breaks my heart that I can’t be there to help them. I can only hope that someone on a Vespa might be.
Geneiveve Kaufman Writes 