i woke up today to clock radio news, that said there had been attempted but
foiled hijackings yesterday and tuesday (in addition to the successful ones)
from jfk airport. went to look out the window at the rain; then a
low-flying airplane (too low?) flew by, and a distant siren sounded.
i will never feel safe again.
today, around 4 pm, my boss held a company meeting to assess the week. this
is an extraordinary man, who, before we came back to work yesterday, put two
white lilies in water at each of our desks. at the meeting today, he said
'i believe, patrick, that you've been the most affected by this.' how
perceptive. how true.
i am just devastated. every day since this happened, i've ridden the same
train into manhattan and when it comes out of the tunnel onto the bridge, i
see the faces of the other passengers tense up. i get shaky. we look out
the window of the train each morning, at the wound in the sky where the wtc
used to stand. it smoked for 3 days, until this morning's rain brought down
the dust a bit. i see each person on today's train, like me, not wanting to
look. not being able to resist.
have you heard about the 'missing' flyers posted all over new york city? in
the window of every copy shop, near police and fire stations, and in many
downtown neighborhoods on every signpost. it is so heartbreaking. i think
these people who are looking for their loved ones are checking all the
hospitals and know that the search is hopeless. but they are putting up
these flyers, everywhere, knowing that we all want to know who has been
lost. and we look again and again at the faces of these victims, so we will
not forget. the mayor has asked that folks with missing person reports
bring in some stray hair from a hairbrush of the person, or a toenail, or
anything else that will provide a dna sample that might match a body part
that has been found. it's a symbol of how hopeless and painful this search
for bodies is... we've also put up lots of pictures of the twin towers,
both in their glory and in the last minutes. they were never that pretty,
but they were ours, god dammit.
tonight i met my sister for the candlelight vigil at union square in new
york, a large public park that has become a bit of a memorial. i started to
cry blocks away, when i saw the mass of humanity. it was wall to wall, so
dense. mostly silence or quiet communing with your friends. hymns,
quietly, a few attempts at singing the national anthem and 'god bless
america', many flags. thousands of candles, every couple of minutes, we'd
hold them up high, light the night sky up a bit more.
after a while we walked back toward the east village on 14th street, candles
still lit, we stopped at the firehouse near third ave. again, tons of
candles and flowers, the garage door was open and a couple of the firemen
were talking with visitors. but also photocopied pictures of the firemen
lost from that station. posters of support, done up on computer and printed
out. one had a picture of the towers burning on one side, a policeman and a
fireman standing on the other side. the caption: "the true twin towers".
we walked down avenue a by a spanish speaking catholic congregation in
procession, singing a hymn. candles on sills, on sidewalks, at the entrance
to tompkins square park. we stopped in a cafe, watched cnn for awhile, got
a sense that the world is grieving too, then split for the evening. back in
brooklyn, there are candles and flags all along fifth avenue and all over.
i've put my candle in my window.
patrick
np - silence
