Atlantic City's Poor Endure Storm Quietly, Humbly Atlantic City's poorest residents had next to nothing going into the storm, and they came out of it with even less. In the shadow of multibillion-dollar casinos that now boast of having come through Superstorm Sandy just fine, urging gamblers to return with their wallets, many of the seaside gambling resort's least fortunate endure hardship with quiet resignation - even gratitude for the help they're getting. Some lost heat, hot water or electricity for days, weeks. They lost many of their meager possessions, their food, and most of their clothes. But instead of complaining about what they don't have, many say they feel blessed for what remains. Lonzie Tolbert's basement took on 6 feet of water, ruining his furnace. He has no heat, so he burns small pieces of wood and scraps of paper in a fireplace to try to keep warm. He has no hot water, so he tries to heat some in a kettle near the fireplace. "You do the best you can with what you have," said the 84-year-old Tolbert, sunning himself on a 66-degree afternoon outside his home three blocks from Revel, a $2.4 billion casino resort. I can't complain and I'm not hollerin'. Life was tough for many Atlantic City residents even before the storm hit Oct. 29. One in four Atlantic City residents lives in poverty, according to Census figures, a rate that has remained unchanged since 1970. That's well above the national rate. In this Monday, Nov. 12, 2012 photo, Lonzie Tolbert warms himself in the sunshine of a 66-degree day outside his home in Atlantic City N.J.. The 84-year-old resident has no heat or hot water in his home following Superstorm Sandy, and burns bits of wood and paper inside his home to stay warm. (AP Photo/Wayne Parry) Close When an emergency shelter at the Atlantic City Convention Center closed over the weekend, 100 people were still there and had to be moved to hotels, the Atlantic City Rescue Mission, or to the homes of friends. And about 20 percent of the apartments at Stanley Holmes Village, a 443-unit low-income public housing project, remain uninhabitable since the storm. "These are people who have already had tremendous struggles in the first place," said the Rev. Collins Days Sr., pastor of Second Baptist Church, which helped distribute supplies over the weekend. Tough times and being without is nothing new to them. But we realize it could have been a whole lot worse, and we are not as bad off as our neighbors to the north," he said. There's a lot of help out there, and they are grateful to it and to God. Tolbert counts himself among the thankful. "As long as you have your life, and we do," he said. At least nobody lost their lives; people could easily have drowned. Farther north on the Jersey shore, they did; at least four deaths attributable to the storm involved people who drowned in their homes. Waiting in line for a hot creamed chicken meal in a plastic foam tray from a Red Cross truck a block away from Revel, Charles Barnes counted himself lucky. "We are truly blessed," said Barnes, whose home was badly damaged in the storm when winds tore a hole in the roof. He said he still had no electricity two weeks after the storm hit; he has been rooting through debris piles since the storm looking for scrap metal to haul to a junkyard for a few dollars. "You have to help yourself sometimes," Barnes said. We're all in this together, and we need to help each other. Several people in line at the Red Cross food truck said they were collecting meals not for themselves, but to carry to elderly and sick people in nearby high-rise apartments who are unable to fend for themselves.