It was the most damaging storm in Long Island history. Thirty-foot waves offshore. 90% of the Island lost power. Historic flooding and beach erosion. All MTA bridges and tunnels were closed, all parkways closed, the LIRR suspended, airports closed for days and there were 13 deaths on Long Island. Credit: Kendall Rodriguez

Donna Hochman can still replay this vision from Superstorm Sandy, 10 years ago: waters rising from her Lindenhurst basement and over her fence until she couldn’t see the fence anymore.

“I could never go through that again,” said Hochman, 62, senior clerk in Lindenhurst Village Court. “Never ever.”

James Hodge of Long Beach remembers how floodwaters rose halfway up his couch, where he sat with his parents and prayed, hoping they would not have to flee to the attic and chop through the roof, as New Orleans residents had done during Hurricane Katrina.

“Some people lost their homes, and they lost their pictures and memories. I lost everything,” said Hodge, 45, a Nassau County Board of Elections employee.

Susan Goldstone, who lives near a creek in Oceanside, remembers that Sandy filled her home with up to 8 feet of water. Construction to raise and restore it still isn't finished.

"Do I feel safe?" said Goldstone, 66, a retired accountant and office manager. "No!"

Ten years later, Sandy still haunts the South Shore, the area hit hardest on Long Island. Hochman and Hodge are among those who believe the homes they raised in the storm’s aftermath would withstand another powerful blow. Others who have done so, like Goldstone, say they aren't so sure.

After having her home raised about 8½ feet, "How do they know that will be out of the flood level?" she said.

Meanwhile, in Freeport, the majority of 160 vacant homes are Sandy-damaged ones whose owners will be billed if the village has to clean and repair them under a “nuisance housing” bill passed this year, said Mayor Robert Kennedy, whose home also was flooded. 

“It’s still a traumatic experience, knowing that we kind of dodged several bullets since then,” Kennedy said. 

Still, the allure of living near the water has returned, according to several Long Island real estate agents.

“For three years, it was hard to sell anything close to the water, and then everything started changing,” said broker Sandor “Sandy” Boci, co-owner of Baldwin-based Sailing Home Realty of Long Island.

Hochman, in Lindenhurst, won’t take the risk of living right next to the water, but she feels secure enough, elevated, a few blocks away. She feels her home would stand like a citadel in the neighborhood after the next big one. 

Using federal aid and insurance funds, her home has been raised at least 4 feet, unlike several neighbors’ homes, she said. They lacked the money, she said, or they had paid off their mortgages and were not required under their existing homeowner policies to have flood insurance.

“I always like to be near the water,” said Hochman, originally from Howard Beach, Queens. “There’s a sense of peace. It reminds me of where I grew up.”

Whenever Hodge, of Long Beach, sloshes through flooded streets after a downpour, he recalls walking on “tippy toes” during Sandy to reach stranded residents of his North Park neighborhood, a low-income area.

He was a board member of the nonprofit that ran the city’s Martin Luther King Center when he cut the locks on the front door and commandeered the building for use as a help center.

It has taken Hodge almost a decade to get federal and insurance funds, draw up architectural plans, obtain government approval, raise his house and rebuild almost from scratch.

He said that all the work except for a new garage door and a few finishing touches has been completed. He estimates the total at $400,000, with FEMA covering the majority.

According to FEMA, its National Flood Insurance Program has a maximum limit of $250,000 on a single-family residence and $100,000 on contents. Homeowners who incurred more than that in damage have to pay for the rest themselves.

Surfing, boating and sunset views have always made the South Shore appealing to house hunters — but memories of the storm are a factor now, according to several Long Island real estate agents. Educated by Sandy, they ask about flood zones and the cost of flood insurance.

“That’s the first thing they ask me — if the house was flooded and how much is the flood insurance,” said Boci, a Baldwin Harbor resident.

Fears receded after buyers became educated, the broker said. Real estate agents told them not all streets and homes flooded, and they highlighted houses that were on higher ground, he said. 

While newly elevated homes may have lower flood insurance due to mitigation measures, most South Shore homeowners can expect an increase in flood insurance rates over the next several years, said David Clausen, CEO of Coastal Insurance Solutions in Rocky Point.

On April 1, FEMA transitioned to a new rating program called Risk Rating 2.0. Under it, a home is assessed for its risk of future flood damage using existing flood zones, FEMA mapping data and models, and other data to produce a property-specific flood insurance rate.

According to FEMA’s interactive map, 72% of single-family homeowners in New York with a flood insurance policy through the National Flood Insurance Program will see an increase in rates, while 28% will see a decrease, Clausen said. But that doesn't seem to deter homebuyers drawn to living near sand and surf.

“People like to live near the water. It’s a lifestyle,” Boci said. “A lot of people believe the water level is higher than it was before Sandy. We are scared, but we love living here.”

This spring, Mike Sandas got several full-price offers the first day he listed his elevated home with a boat dock in Massapequa. The home sold for $1.22 million, according to property records.

“I think people at this point realize having a raised home, you’re pretty much protected,” said Sandas, 38, a sales executive who relocated to Florida for work.

Everybody on his Massapequa block had to rebuild after Sandy, and the storm was a regular topic, he said: “When we’re in larger groups, it always pops up. People tell war stories.”

Over the years, Helen Dorado Alessi has seen people still traumatized by the destruction of their houses, as she meets clients in her role as executive director of the Long Beach Latino Civic Association and volunteer consultant for the Centereach-based Herstory Writers Workshop.

Earlier this year for a Herstory workshop, Alessi, 63, began a history project as a cathartic exercise for Latinos, asking them to focus on three of the most traumatic experiences for their community: immigration, COVID and Superstorm Sandy.

The participants, some in tears, spoke of owning little before Sandy, then having to throw away storm-ruined possessions and moving in with friends and relatives, Alessi said. Many Latinos were not prepared for the superstorm due to the language barrier, so the Long Beach-based civic association has been lobbying for hurricane preparedness pamphlets and warnings to be presented in Spanish as well as English.

There are those “who will never get over what happened,” Alessi said.

Alessi and her family left their Long Beach home for the mainland as Sandy arrived, flooding her house and eventually creating a sinkhole in her front yard.

Those scenes fuel her preparedness for the next superstorm.

“Now the car is always gassed up,” said Alessi, who now lives in Island Park. “The fridge is always full. We don’t leave things to chance.”

Donna Hochman can still replay this vision from Superstorm Sandy, 10 years ago: waters rising from her Lindenhurst basement and over her fence until she couldn’t see the fence anymore.

“I could never go through that again,” said Hochman, 62, senior clerk in Lindenhurst Village Court. “Never ever.”

James Hodge of Long Beach remembers how floodwaters rose halfway up his couch, where he sat with his parents and prayed, hoping they would not have to flee to the attic and chop through the roof, as New Orleans residents had done during Hurricane Katrina.

“Some people lost their homes, and they lost their pictures and memories. I lost everything,” said Hodge, 45, a Nassau County Board of Elections employee.

WHAT TO KNOW

  • Ten years later, Sandy still haunts residents of the South Shore, the area hit hardest on Long Island. Some feel more secure in homes that have since been elevated, but others aren't so sure.
  • The lure of moving close to the water has returned, according to some Long Island real estate agents, but prospective homebuyers are wary of flood zones and the cost of flood insurance.
  • Most South Shore homeowners can expect an increase in flood insurance rates over the next several years, said David Clausen, CEO of Coastal Insurance Solutions in Rocky Point.

Susan Goldstone, who lives near a creek in Oceanside, remembers that Sandy filled her home with up to 8 feet of water. Construction to raise and restore it still isn't finished.

"Do I feel safe?" said Goldstone, 66, a retired accountant and office manager. "No!"

Ten years later, Sandy still haunts the South Shore, the area hit hardest on Long Island. Hochman and Hodge are among those who believe the homes they raised in the storm’s aftermath would withstand another powerful blow. Others who have done so, like Goldstone, say they aren't so sure.

After having her home raised about 8½ feet, "How do they know that will be out of the flood level?" she said.

Meanwhile, in Freeport, the majority of 160 vacant homes are Sandy-damaged ones whose owners will be billed if the village has to clean and repair them under a “nuisance housing” bill passed this year, said Mayor Robert Kennedy, whose home also was flooded. 

“It’s still a traumatic experience, knowing that we kind of dodged several bullets since then,” Kennedy said. 

Still, the allure of living near the water has returned, according to several Long Island real estate agents.

“For three years, it was hard to sell anything close to the water, and then everything started changing,” said broker Sandor “Sandy” Boci, co-owner of Baldwin-based Sailing Home Realty of Long Island.

'Sense of peace' near water

Hochman, in Lindenhurst, won’t take the risk of living right next to the water, but she feels secure enough, elevated, a few blocks away. She feels her home would stand like a citadel in the neighborhood after the next big one. 

Using federal aid and insurance funds, her home has been raised at least 4 feet, unlike several neighbors’ homes, she said. They lacked the money, she said, or they had paid off their mortgages and were not required under their existing homeowner policies to have flood insurance.

“I always like to be near the water,” said Hochman, originally from Howard Beach, Queens. “There’s a sense of peace. It reminds me of where I grew up.”

James Hodge recalls Sandy's floodwaters rising halfway up his couch, where...

James Hodge recalls Sandy's floodwaters rising halfway up his couch, where he sat with his parents and prayed, hoping they would not have to flee to the attic and chop through the roof. Credit: Newsday/Thomas A. Ferrara

Whenever Hodge, of Long Beach, sloshes through flooded streets after a downpour, he recalls walking on “tippy toes” during Sandy to reach stranded residents of his North Park neighborhood, a low-income area.

He was a board member of the nonprofit that ran the city’s Martin Luther King Center when he cut the locks on the front door and commandeered the building for use as a help center.

It has taken Hodge almost a decade to get federal and insurance funds, draw up architectural plans, obtain government approval, raise his house and rebuild almost from scratch.

He said that all the work except for a new garage door and a few finishing touches has been completed. He estimates the total at $400,000, with FEMA covering the majority.

According to FEMA, its National Flood Insurance Program has a maximum limit of $250,000 on a single-family residence and $100,000 on contents. Homeowners who incurred more than that in damage have to pay for the rest themselves.

Educated by Sandy

Surfing, boating and sunset views have always made the South Shore appealing to house hunters — but memories of the storm are a factor now, according to several Long Island real estate agents. Educated by Sandy, they ask about flood zones and the cost of flood insurance.

“That’s the first thing they ask me — if the house was flooded and how much is the flood insurance,” said Boci, a Baldwin Harbor resident.

Fears receded after buyers became educated, the broker said. Real estate agents told them not all streets and homes flooded, and they highlighted houses that were on higher ground, he said. 

While newly elevated homes may have lower flood insurance due to mitigation measures, most South Shore homeowners can expect an increase in flood insurance rates over the next several years, said David Clausen, CEO of Coastal Insurance Solutions in Rocky Point.

On April 1, FEMA transitioned to a new rating program called Risk Rating 2.0. Under it, a home is assessed for its risk of future flood damage using existing flood zones, FEMA mapping data and models, and other data to produce a property-specific flood insurance rate.

According to FEMA’s interactive map, 72% of single-family homeowners in New York with a flood insurance policy through the National Flood Insurance Program will see an increase in rates, while 28% will see a decrease, Clausen said. But that doesn't seem to deter homebuyers drawn to living near sand and surf.

“People like to live near the water. It’s a lifestyle,” Boci said. “A lot of people believe the water level is higher than it was before Sandy. We are scared, but we love living here.”

Karen and Mike Sandas easily sold their elevated home with...

Karen and Mike Sandas easily sold their elevated home with a boat dock in Massapequa this spring. “I think people at this point realize having a raised home you’re pretty much protected,” Mike Sandas said. Credit: Newsday/Alejandra Villa Loarca

This spring, Mike Sandas got several full-price offers the first day he listed his elevated home with a boat dock in Massapequa. The home sold for $1.22 million, according to property records.

“I think people at this point realize having a raised home, you’re pretty much protected,” said Sandas, 38, a sales executive who relocated to Florida for work.

Everybody on his Massapequa block had to rebuild after Sandy, and the storm was a regular topic, he said: “When we’re in larger groups, it always pops up. People tell war stories.”

Lasting trauma

Over the years, Helen Dorado Alessi has seen people still traumatized by the destruction of their houses, as she meets clients in her role as executive director of the Long Beach Latino Civic Association and volunteer consultant for the Centereach-based Herstory Writers Workshop.

Earlier this year for a Herstory workshop, Alessi, 63, began a history project as a cathartic exercise for Latinos, asking them to focus on three of the most traumatic experiences for their community: immigration, COVID and Superstorm Sandy.

Helen Dorado Alessi, with her husband, Vincent Alessi, at their Island...

Helen Dorado Alessi, with her husband, Vincent Alessi, at their Island Park home, has run workshops for the Latino community addressing the trauma of Superstorm Sandy. Credit: Newsday/Thomas A. Ferrara

The participants, some in tears, spoke of owning little before Sandy, then having to throw away storm-ruined possessions and moving in with friends and relatives, Alessi said. Many Latinos were not prepared for the superstorm due to the language barrier, so the Long Beach-based civic association has been lobbying for hurricane preparedness pamphlets and warnings to be presented in Spanish as well as English.

There are those “who will never get over what happened,” Alessi said.

Alessi and her family left their Long Beach home for the mainland as Sandy arrived, flooding her house and eventually creating a sinkhole in her front yard.

Those scenes fuel her preparedness for the next superstorm.

“Now the car is always gassed up,” said Alessi, who now lives in Island Park. “The fridge is always full. We don’t leave things to chance.”

Over the past year, Newsday has followed a pair of migrant families as they navigate new surroundings and an immigration system that has been overwhelmed. NewsdayTV's Ken Buffa reports. Credit: Newsday Staff

'I haven't stopped crying' Over the past year, Newsday has followed a pair of migrant families as they navigate new surroundings and an immigration system that has been overwhelmed. NewsdayTV's Ken Buffa reports.

Over the past year, Newsday has followed a pair of migrant families as they navigate new surroundings and an immigration system that has been overwhelmed. NewsdayTV's Ken Buffa reports. Credit: Newsday Staff

'I haven't stopped crying' Over the past year, Newsday has followed a pair of migrant families as they navigate new surroundings and an immigration system that has been overwhelmed. NewsdayTV's Ken Buffa reports.

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