9/11 Remembering, Lessons and Time
Posted on 12. Sep, 2011 by admin in Guest Articles
by Michelle Hope
Written in 2008…
Remembering, Lessons, and Time
7 years later…
Smoke bellowed in the empty sky where the buildings once stood, as the gasps and screams of those watching filled the 34th floor of this midtown office building. Terror filled my heart and confusion erupted like searing molten lava in my mind. Even though I knew what had happened, the idea was not an easy one to wrap my head around. Radio’s came out of desks and the need to hear what was going on surpassed all other emotions. For me it was just too incomprehensible. Never in my protected and sheltered life had I experienced such terror, confusion and doubt.
The Pentagon, the World Trade Centers, another plane, flights grounded, jets over the city; and sobs, sirens, and silence filled the streets of New York City. Unthinkable…
We wandered around the office for hours seeking each others’ comfort. I cried silently at my desk and called home to San Diego to let family know that I was ok. Friends and co-workers from one of the now fallen buildings filed in little by little as the marooned hours passed. They had escaped because they ignored the security order to stay put. Traumatized and confused they sought comfort here. Other co-workers perished in the fall.
No comfort was to be found that day. All bridges, tunnels, trains, busses, and
roads leading to and from Manhattan Island were closed. Those of us who lived outside the city were stranded. News came that the Ferries were running to take us off the island. Emotional zombies filed their way to the boats. We waited hours for our turn to cross the river to New Jersey. Haz Mat doctors screened us as we disembarked. Still dazed we walked several miles to where my middle eastern co-worker’s wife and kids picked us up. They took me home…
Alone at home, I called local friends. Although there was some semblance of comfort we found in each other, nothing could ease the indescribable emotional state that we shared. To those who knew people in the city, it was a frantic role call of friends and family.
I don’t remember how many days I stayed home, a couple I guess. That time is a blur of confusion and realizations.
The city was silent; taxi filled streets that customarily honked at the slightest traffic infractions, were quiet. For two-weeks after, when I heard a siren, I hoped it was because they found somebody alive underneath the steel and concrete tomb that was the World Trade Centers. Even though I knew that was a futile hope.
New York parks soon sprang up with memorials, candles, healing gardens of love, support, and throngs of people; brought together to somehow make sense of it all. There was a strong call to peace as the terror soon turned to rage and revenge for many across the country.
I was lost in my own ignorance…
One night as I was making my way through Union Square Park, a healing labyrinth of remembrances, messages, grief and pleas to find missing loved ones. I came upon a scene that planted something deep in my psyche. With no judgment (as this is not a time to judge) I will share my experience the best I can.
I was ending my walk through the memorial web and ready to exit the park. There, standing a few inches higher than those of us on the ground, stood a man with a sign. The sign just read “Peace”. Inches from his face was a very angry citizen, appalled that in the face of such a devastating and disastrous attack this man could call for peace. The angry man screamed into the face of the man with the sign. I watched as the chasm between me and the scene grew smaller. I saw two America’s. One man, screaming in the face of another; directing his indignation of such a ludicrous and dangerous ideal such as peace, the other man, non-reactive, silent, motionless, and with a soft expression on his face. I watched in amazement as I went by. Then as I was looking back at the scene the man with the sign, smiled at me and winked. I was moved to tears. Here, in the wake of such confusion and pain were two America loving citizens expressing their belief. One, justifiably angry, expressing his deep felt sentiments and frustration with the loss. The other stood practicing his conviction of peace, allowing the verbal assault without moving to stop the onslaught. Neither man yielding to the stubborn position of the other. In turn, perhaps without realizing it, each man giving the other the opportunity to convey and practice in their own meaningful way his own belief and contributing somehow to each others’ healing.
Not in any attempt to intercept the generosity of Americans in those days but for these two symbols of expressed ideals, I must quote a song by John Mellencamp “Now ain’t that America?”
Who am I but an insignificant ripple in this placid lake of life? I cannot judge those around me, as my own internal truth is often in question and in reality merely my own interpretation of a moment in time. The best I can do for myself and perhaps those I meet along the way, is possibly to stay true to my own convictions, my own heart’s direction, my own truth, as insignificant as these may be in a bigger picture. Maybe this is the best I can give humanity along with a tangible helping hand in a timely manner.
Michelle Hope
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