Some things you don't ever forget.
On the morning of 9/11/2001, I was AOL chatting with one of my nieces. I ran to the TV, and all I remember is numbness. I drove to Stanley's office, trying to reach relatives by phone, but phone lines were jammed. As much as I wanted to stay home, Stanley insisted that my place was with my congregation; he'd make sure that the children made it home OK. I - reluctantly, I admit - drove to the UJC.
I stopped at the light on Coalpit Hill Road and South Street, my windows open because it was a beautiful weather day, and I couldn't bear to be locked up in my car while the world was falling apart around me.
That's when I heard that the first building had collapsed. I started to sob. The driver of the car stopped next to me looked over at me with a equally horrified look on her face. We nodded sadly at each other, and silently drove off to our respective places.
When I got to the UJC, we were all walking around quietly. Lynne, Jodi, and I grabbed the membership list and started calling everyone we thought either worked in NYC or had a connection to someone there.
Ricky had set up a TV in Larry's Room, and it was playing and replaying the same awful visuals all day. I couldn't bear to repeatedly watch or hear, so I kept turning off the TV. Ricky kept turning the TV back on.
UJC people were walking in and out of the Chapel and Sanctuary all day. One gentleman came in and out throughout the morning; I could tell he was both frightened and furious, and he needed a safe place to contemplate and maybe yell at God.
We decided to hold a vigil that evening and got to work alerting the congregation. I picked up my children and we went to dinner at a local diner. Over dinner I mentioned that since the murderers were claiming to be Muslim, they might hear some ugly anti-Muslim sentiment at school, and I wanted them to take no part in it; condemning innocents because they affiliated with a religion that the murderers claimed was unacceptable.
We drove back to the UJC. As we drove back in, we saw some law enforcement person with a lot of fire power standing guard at the parking lot entrance. My God - I NEVER want to see that again.
The Chapel was full. People were angry and scared; most of us had never experienced this kind of terror before (some of the much older among us likened it to Pearl Harbor). We just all needed to be with each other.
Not too long after, my husband - a dentist - got a call to provide dental x-rays for a patient who had worked in one of the towers. Medical professionals know that at some point they may be needed to identify someone, but this really hit home: the patient lived close to us, and we had known his family for a while. Now when I return to Ground Zero, I specifically look for his name. He was a good soul, a kind man, and I pray that his memory - and the memories of all those who were killed - should be a blessing always.
I think it was December 21, 2001, when a group of us from the UJC volunteered at St. Paul's Chapel at Ground Zero. As we drove south along the West Side Highway, I was struck with the lack of anything to see. That's when I really started to cry. Even though most people really hated the towers (face it, they were pretty ugly), my mother, z"l, LOVED the towers; even in her wheelchair, she wanted to go to the top of the buildings. They were like a playground for her. And now they really were gone.
That night I was the designated driver, but I couldn't sleep. I met with one of my nieces outside the Chapel for a little bit; you could see the air filled with God-knows-what at night in the bright lights. Even months after 9/11, it was hard to breathe there. I'm not surprised that rescue and other workers who spent their days and nights at Ground Zero are getting ill from their time there; they were doing God's work.
Every so often I try to muster hatred for the murderers at the horrific damage they did to the victims, to those buildings that were part of my life, to Muslims who began to take abuse simply because of the their religion, to all of us who lived in a post 9/11 world filled with fear, suspicion, and ongoing conspiracy theories. And don't get me started with our going to war with a country that wasn't involved in 9/11.
But all I can feel is tremendous sorrow. Even though they've rebuilt, and what had been made a wasteland is now flourishing, there's still a huge gap in our world.
May the memories of all those killed be a blessing; may all who loved the victims be granted peace and comfort; and may our country be safe from hate-filled radicalism of every sort.
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