My Memory of Love

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13

Ten years ago I was working on the 42nd floor of an office building in midtown, happily sipping my morning coffee as it was the first day back from a lovely vacation at the Outer Banks. I slipped into the elevator and making my way to my desk when I noticed my co workers faces crowded around my office. (I thought I had left something very interesting on my desk to my mistake.) They were all looking south towards the Twin Towers one was on fire. I sank to my seat and turned on the radio and instantly saw the plane hit the south tower. Several co workers lost it, I remember knew my family would be worried so I called my Mom and told her to turn on the news. Once she turned on the news, our conversation turned serious.

I instantly knew from friends that refused to work in the Twin Towers that it took 2 and half hours to evacuated those buildings because of the past bombing attempt experience several years before. That conversation with my friend ran through my head, wondering what could be going on down there when soon after that I watched the first tower fall. I was shocked. I had just witnessed a complete slaughter of thousands of people." What is going on?" I silently asked God.

At this point my co workers were a mess. My buddy Rob was screaming. People were holding onto each other crying. What was I to say? I had no words of comfort for anyone. I picked up the phone and told my husband to call his family and just let them know we were safe, because I knew distant friends would wonder. Phone lines started going down. I tried to call my boss. No answer. This worried me a bit. Especially as the second tower right before my eyes. Imploded. The second witness to a devastating slaughter of human life. People started leaving the office because we were so high and close to the Empire State Building. Over the radio reports of a plane in DC, and soon one down in Pennsylvania close to my hometown. It was getting a bit much, especially as I had family that worked in the Pentagon and my family lived close in the area the 4th plane went down. All four planes hit close to home.

I decided to leave the office, I left a message on my bosses machine. People were making mass exoduses towards their homes in droves, crossing bridges covered in dust and debris to get home. No transportation. The city in complete lockdown. Soon, walking up 7th Ave the city was crying with sirens. Chaos. Sadness. Terror. Dismay. My husband agreed to ride our motorcycle to Columbus Circle...”I’ll meet you at the fountain.” People walked past crying, running, some people sitting on the ground. Few talkers and no one was ambitious in New York, except firemen that day. I came to that place, still shocked, still unable to speak and the traffic and crowds were so bad that I couldn’t move to get to our meeting place. Then I saw my darling’s red hair on the oblesk at the rotary, he was looking for me. I waved. we met. We sat at our fountain and spoke few small words. Not much I could say really. We got on the motorcycle and weaved our way through traffic to our apartment. What now? The phone calls weren’t coming through. Our neighborhood was completely still. No one moved. We knew we all collectively had been through something horrible. Find your people, your friends, your clan. That became the imminent job for several days. People went missing. Never made it. Evacuations downtown. There’s a rumor someone’s husband was due to fly out, but got bumped and was saved. Chance?

We decided to take a walk in the park. There was not much else we could do and I needed to process stuff. We walked for several minutes when a dog approached us with a belt around it’s neck. It was a stray. No one was going to do anything with the dog. I coaxed it and put our dog’s leash on it. The chances of a shelter taking it in were pretty good. The dog had clearly been abandoned and abused. Later I tried to pet it and it lunged at me. By midnight we drove over to the shelter in Harlem and handed the dog over to them. The world was not right, even the animals knew. I finally broke down and cried in the car on the way home. The thought of what really was lost that day was overwhelming. It’s taken years to process 9/11 for many people, myself included.

I noticed the day after Sept 11...was that people bound together in love, compassion and good will like never before. Many turned to God. People hugged each other. They reconcilled with family memebers. They made room on the subways or housed a co worker who couldn’t get access to their apartment downtown. Today in face of a country divided by different ideologies, differences of opinions and different convictions we should take time to reflect what good came out of 9/11. The hurt and sting is still there. It’s 10 years down the line. Pictures and memorials. Flowers, tiles, notes, pictures secured to fences and walls to honor people and place. Heros died. Loved ones were lost. Families were devastated.

Occasionally when I visit New York now, I remember how I would look at those towers at as a needle on a compass as to which way I needed to walk.... uptown, downtown, east side, west side. That compass is gone. The air space hangs now like a ghost. Hollow. Empty. Scarred with emptiness. But still reminding me of the people that ran into danger to save others.The heros that knew they were facing death by a mere attempt at the impossibility to save both another and themselves. The people that continue in their bravery that serve us in this way everyday and do not let their fear of the past cripple them from carrying on today. Remember the love for each other that came out of all that mess? This is what I want to remember most about that day.