Have you ever gotten lost — only to find yourself in a magical world of cobblestone roads, rainbows and artisanal chocolate? It happened to me once.
Mother Nature had sent her spoiled brat of a child, Tropical Storm Irene, to pummel the East Coast in August of 2011. Irene’s seasonal tantrum diverted my family from a return trip home from a summer vacation in Northern Michigan, and we were waylaid in Chicago.
Images on social media revealed a climacteric situation. Irene had knocked out electricity, downed wires and flooded basements. Kind neighbors assured us that our basement only held about an inch of water, nothing that the suburban requisite wet vac couldn’t handle. If only we could get to our house. No flights could arrive or depart from Newark Airport.