NEW YORK — Every morning for the past 15 years, Sukey Gutin has headed to a cafe on the Upper West Side of Manhattan for her morning coffee and a chat with friends.
So on Tuesday, the morning after the surreal chaos of Superstorm Sandy, that’s where Gutin found herself: at the same communal table at Zabar’s, drinking the same Continental blend, with half-and-half and a pack of sweetener.
“It’s my religion,” said Gutin, 72. “I didn’t have to think about what I was going to do this morning. I needed my coffee.”
And so, apparently, did the dozens of people lining up to get inside, or into the other few places that were open. The morning after hit with a ferocity most New Yorkers had never experienced, many of them came into the streets, seeking solace in routines, and a release from hours of hunkering down inside.
Of course, nothing was really familiar about the day — it was a Tuesday, yet the streets were disconcertingly quiet. Children were off school. There were no subways or buses. And Manhattan was, truly now, an island: Most major tunnels and bridges were closed, as were the area’s three main airports.
So given all that, reasoned Ed McNally, why not get in the car in search of fresh bagels?
“We thought we’d make it an adventure,” McNally said. “We went first to Barney Greengrass,” he added, referring to another Upper West Side institution, “but they were toasting yesterday’s bagels. That was not on our agenda.”
Also seeking out that morning bagel were roommates Jessica Kreiss and Kristin Svenningsen. The two, both 29, had been lucky enough to live uptown and thus keep their power. They’d stocked up on plenty of food — and alcohol — and spent Monday evening watching Sandy unfold through Facebook updates. Leaving a bagel shop on Broadway with their breakfast, they knew they’d had it better than many, including their parents in New Jersey.
“We feel very fortunate,” Kreiss said.
