Water Over The Bridge: Hurricane Sandy And Those Who Rebuilt
Nice piece in the NYT by N.R. Kleinfeld from late October about the rebuilding post-Sandy. And yes, people who live in a flood plain should have flood insurance:

Marco Pasanella engagingly pointed out the jagged white line that ran the length of the brick wall inside his wine shop, Pasanella & Son Vintners, in the South Street Seaport. It was about six feet above the floor. It was going to stay right there. The waterline from Hurricane Sandy.

When the East River slammed into the shop, he lost 10,000 bottles of wine. Nasty business for sure, but he prefers that the waterline stay preserved. "I guess I don't want to erase the past," he said. "I feel it's like wrinkles in your face. I don't like the Botox look."

In fact, he had a plaque made with the inscription, "The East River Came to Here. 29 October 2012." He styled it after one on a building in Florence, Italy, that noted the height of the horrid flood of the Arno River in 1966. He was not entirely happy with how it came out, though, and has not mounted it yet.

Customers come, marvel, snap pictures of the line; relatives point to it with a grin. Mr. Pasanella said his wife was sometimes irked. She regards it as "disaster tourism."

As he sees it, Hurricane Sandy, despite its effrontery, had not conquered his wine store; he had conquered it. This was his narrative of the storm.

For some people bruised by the hurricane, the waterline has become something of a signature of survival. Most building owners and homeowners have understandably wiped away theirs as they have repaired and rebuilt what the waves gulped up, trying to forget. But quite a few, as part of their formulas to reconcile with the storm, have chosen to live with that waterline, not always knowing why.