The storms keep coming, will we be ready?

When a nor’easter rolled into New York this week, bringing flash floods, downed trees and shuttered roads, Gov. Kathy Hochul declared a state of emergency — again.

And once again, New Yorkers held their breath, wondering if the subways would shut down, if basements would flood or if their kids would make it home from school. Here in Riverdale, residents watched the Hudson rise or braced for the now-familiar sight of water pooling on sloped streets.

We’ve seen this story before. 

In September 2021, the remnants of Hurricane Ida flooded parts of the city so quickly that some residents drowned in basement apartments. In Riverdale, several low-lying blocks saw multiple inches of rain overwhelm decades-old drainage systems. In 2023, another round of late-summer storms submerged cars in Queens and turned Brooklyn streets into rivers. And now, in 2025, we are still playing defense against a future that has already arrived.

This is not just about bad weather. It’s about bad planning, or more accurately, the long-term consequences of underinvestment, outdated systems and wishful thinking. The good news? There is finally a plan on the table. 

The bad news? We’ve waited too long already.

Earlier this month, Mayor Eric Adams’ administration released a sweeping new capital strategy that proposes $173.4 billion in infrastructure investments over the next decade, from Fiscal Year 2026 through 2035. If approved and executed as proposed, it would be one of the largest and most comprehensive capital plans in city history.

The plan includes major upgrades to stormwater systems, sewers, coastal protections, street-level infrastructure and transit resiliency. It’s long overdue.

More than 60 percent of New York’s sewer system is combined sewer overflow — meaning that in heavy rain, sewage mixes with stormwater and spills into waterways or backs up into homes. Many flood-prone neighborhoods still rely on drainage systems built for the climate of the 1950s, not the supercharged storms of the 2020s.

That includes areas of Riverdale, where infrastructure must contend with steep hills, aging pipes, and a mix of residential density and natural parkland. Sloped streets can turn into runoff channels in a matter of minutes. Commuters rely heavily on the Major Deegan and Henry Hudson Parkway, both of which become chokepoints during major weather events. When the city’s infrastructure buckles, Riverdale feels it, and not just in flooded intersections.

Meanwhile, coastal areas like the Rockaways and parts of lower Manhattan remain highly vulnerable, even after the lessons of Superstorm Sandy. In a city of over 8 million people, extreme weather isn’t an inconvenience. 

It’s a threat to life, health, housing and mobility.

We often talk about infrastructure in terms of dollars and cement, but this is about justice.

In New York, working-class communities, communities of color and public housing residents have borne the brunt of flooding, outages and delayed repairs. These neighborhoods are more likely to have low-lying terrain, older buildings and limited access to climate-resilient upgrades. They are also the ones least able to recover from storm damage or displacement.

In other words, infrastructure isn’t just about protecting roads and tunnels. It’s about protecting people. It’s about giving every resident, whether they live in a Manhattan high-rise, a Queens basement unit,or a walk-up in Riverdale, the basic right to a safe and functioning city.

Still, plans alone don’t stop flooding. Budgets get reallocated. Timelines slip. Projects get cut. The city’s last 10-year capital plan was delayed repeatedly, and many shovel-ready projects were scaled back after the pandemic.

To ensure this new $173.4 billion commitment doesn’t become another broken promise, the city must establish transparency, public oversight and clear benchmarks. Every neighborhood deserves to know when its storm drains will be replaced, when its streets will be raised and when its public transit will be protected from flooding. Riverdale is no exception. Residents should not have to wait for another flood to find out where they stand in the city’s priorities.

New Yorkers are resilient. We shovel our sidewalks before sunrise, push stalled buses out of intersections and wade through knee-high water to get groceries. But resilience shouldn’t mean acceptance.

It should not take another nor’easter, another drowning or another subway shutdown to remind us that our city’s foundation is fragile. We know what the problem is. We know how to fix it. And now, finally, we might have the money to do so.

Let’s make sure this time, we do.