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Sandy victims struggling on hard-hit Staten Island

Laura Petrecca, USA TODAY
A car drives past several boats, washed up in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, in front of homes on the shoreline of the Great Kills community on Staten Island, N.Y.
  • Staten Island had the most New York City casualties, with 22 of the 41 deaths
  • Many residents and small business owners didn't have flood insurance
  • Residents worry that insurers will now run from their storm-stricken area

NEW YORK --The floodwaters came in about 6 feet deep and soaked almost every part of Christina Szarka's lovely little bungalow.

Her clothes were drenched in water, mud and what was most likely sewage. Her appliances were toppled. Her sofa and TV were wrecked.

"I don't know where to begin," Szarka says.

Nearly two weeks after Hurricane Sandy's wrath, many victims have gotten back heat, electricity and water, and they continue with life as it was before.

For those in hard-hit areas such as Staten Island, though, the struggles continue.

Volunteers have distributed water, cleaning supplies and food to Staten Islanders, but the victims there need much more: habitable houses and money to rebuild.

They also need answers. Will insurance cover water damage? Will the Federal Emergency Management Agency come through with enough financial aid? Where will they live when the free FEMA housing expires?

Szarka, 31, lost her job this year. She rents her bungalow, doesn't have renter's insurance and has no idea where she'll live next. She's distraught over how much financial help FEMA said she will get: $5,000.

"The forgotten borough" is how many residents described Staten Island even before the storm hit. It's an area unto its own — not attached to the subway lines that connect Manhattan, Queens, the Bronx and Brooklyn.

With about 470,000 residents, it's the least populous of the boroughs, but it had the most casualties: 23 of the city's 43 deaths.

FEMA and the Red Cross are there now, but some say the aid didn't come soon enough.

Szarka wishes they had more pertinent information to share. "I don't need someone walking around in a FEMA shirt telling me to call FEMA," she says.

Chuck Russo and Danny Gallagher live in very different Staten Island neighborhoods — one is filled with small, beachy casual houses and the other is dotted with bigger, ritzier homes. Yet they both bring up a similar concern: Will insurers run from their storm-stricken area?

Before Sandy was on the radar, Russo got notice that his insurer was canceling his policy because it wanted to limit exposure to coastal areas.

After the storm, Gallagher's auto insurance company said the damage to his sports car may not be covered because it was under a collectible-car policy that has limitations.

Inside his home, pictures are off the walls and furniture is at odd angles. On his back porch, his insurance paperwork and tax returns dry out under the weight of canned goods.

"If you're an insurance company, are you going to insure me?" he asks.

Russo is taking recovery "one step at a time," he says. "I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow."

In the Great Kills harbor area, boats are resting on lawns and wedged into trees. An enormous vessel sits perpendicular to Cleveland Street, blocking the road.

Joe Fugel's business, A&J Police Equipment & Uniforms, is on Cleveland Street.

It's dusk and Fugel is heading home to Manalapan, N.J., after waiting more than seven hours for an insurance adjuster who didn't show up.

"Everything is destroyed," he says.

He doesn't have flood coverage but hopes that other parts of his insurance policy will cover the damage.

He's frustrated by the bureaucracy he has to navigate to get answers. He has no idea when the giant boat in the road will be towed away.

Fugel called his credit card company to see whether it would lower his interest rate as he tries to rebuild. The answer: no.

"I have to gut everything and start all over again," he says.

He pulls out a small, white envelope and points to a return address from Minnesota. Inside is a $100 donation from a stranger who heard about his plight. That gets him choked up.

"I just try to do the best I can for people," he says. "Maybe it'll come back and help me now. I need help."

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