Post-Traumatic Hurricane Disorder

Hurricane Irene has rubbed our collective suburban nerves raw. The process began before she even blew into town as we anxiously awaited her entrance. Then came the actual storm and the flooding she unleashed. And now, her aftermath. It's hard to even surrender into the crystal-clear, humidity-free days she left in her wake because, around every corner, I see and hear what else she's left behind:

People shoveling mud and debris out of their front doors. Piles of ruined carpeting and furniture sitting on curbs. The whine of chainsaws and rumble of chippers eating away at fallen branches. An apoplectic contractor in his parked car, screaming into his cell phone, Your crew can handle it! I TRUST they can handle it! Now FUCKING handle it!!! 

The heartbreaking stories of the devastation my fellow townsfolk have suffered have left me on edge. I can't bear to hear anymore stories but I know they're out there. I'm waiting for the next limb to fall.

That's why on Tuesday afternoon, when I noticed the flashing lights of police cars blocking the entrance to Rye Playland, an amusement park right down the street from where I live, I braced myself for another Irene-related issue. But word spread quickly, as it does in a small town, that the cops were there because of a fight.

That day, 3,000 Muslims had come to Playland to celebrate the end of Ramadan. But for some, the celebration ground to a halt when women who were wearing religious head coverings --hijabs-- were asked, for safety reasons, to take them off before getting on certain rides. Tempers flared between the park-goers and the park rangers, a fight ensued and 15 people wound up being arrested.

Now, not being an eye-witness, I don't know the extent and intensity of the actual skirmish. But when I walked into the park two and half hours later to take Little Man to Playland Ice Casino for hockey practice, I was struck by the juxtaposition of what I saw.

There were scores of Westchester County cop cars and cops, some wearing riot gear. Milling peaceably about them were families waiting patiently for Playland to reopen. Many women in the crowd had their heads covered by hijabs. From where I stood, watching parents playing with their kids and the ferris wheel spinning in the background, the number of police officers dispatched to Playland definitely seemed like overkill.

Depending on the coverage, some say the police over-reacted. Others say they were just doing their job. I can't speak to how the fight was handled but I do wonder this. Is it possible that being on such high alert for the hurricane then dealing with the multitude of emergencies that came afterward spawned such a massive police presence at Playland on Tuesday? Maybe, like me, the police were waiting for that next big limb to fall?