Jersey Shore Magazine
Issue link: https://www.ifoldsflip.com/i/141619
BeachComber Supers tor rs e Je m S t th andy a e y Shore Never In A Million Years... by Frank Finale photo by Master Sgt. Mark C. Olsen, U.S. Air Force j e r s e y s h o r e • s p r i n g 2 0 1 3 South Mantoloking, October 30, 2012, less than twenty-four hours after the storm. One of the ocean breaches, just north of Brick Beach 3. Blocks of homes destroyed, fires still burning. Across the bayside, thousands of homes were flooded or destroyed. 16 T hree weeks after the storm, Island Beach State Park still appears natural except for less beach and deeper escarpments. Gliding above the shoreline in a Cessna Skyhawk, below us are the barrier islands, thin spits of sand, sandbars to be exact. Our pilot, Steve, speaks into our headgear above the drone of his single engine plane. "You really can't see much of the damage here because this area is mostly natural. Just north of here you'll see the difference." Continuing along the shore, towards Sandy Hook and back, my son, Alan, (whose flight gift this is) and I spot two-story houses in the bay, a roller coaster in the ocean, scorched spaces where fires swept through bungalows, toothless pilings where boardwalks once were, and in marinas, boats heaped up like toys on top of each other. One of the most shocking views from this height is the density of houses on these islands. It's as though someone had taken all the little Monopoly-like houses and placed them on every space they could. There are a million different stories from tragic to inspiring that came out of the Sandblaster's left hook to the Jersey Shore. Since this historic storm, the cry of "Restore the Shore" resonates as people in the towns vow to rebuild stronger and wiser, pilings pounded deeper and dunes piled higher and wider. Houses are being raised more than three courses higher above the ground and set back farther from the water before another "big bad wolf" windstorm threatens to huff and puff and blow their houses down. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I hear a nagging voice whispering, yeah, but it's still on sand. Although this was meant to be figurative, I remember what the