Just a few thoughts on the day.
Crying over 9/11
When the twin towers were hit back in 2001, I was enjoying a day off. As I heard on my classical radio station that there was a catastrophe happening in New York City, I went out to the bay and saw firsthand. Then I went home and saw it all over again on television as the whole sequence was repeated all day.
I did not cry then, but took photos to send to family in California, and phoned my daughter to alert her that I was alright. She had not been watching television, and had no idea what was going on.
The next day I had to work, and since I had taken that Tuesday off in exchange for another day, I worked straight through the week and weekend. We figured that the best way to handle a disaster like that was to keep the libraries open to serve the community.
Through the week that followed, I was noticing that since I was downwind of Manhattan, the oily smoke had blown through my bathroom window and made my bathtub sooty. Who knows what minuscule particles were there of human beings, or airplanes, or buildings.
I kept the window closed after that, and scrubbed the tub with sorrow.
As I wrote at the time, the whole period seemed surreal, as I walked through our little College Point park and saw women pushing their children along calmly in their strollers, or watching them play on the merry go round.
Were we supposed to manifest more public displays of grief? That would only serve to scare the little ones, so even though the time was stressful and surreal, it was also trying to look normal.
9/11/2001 was such a beautiful day in the early morning.
The grief will always be with us, and I cry when the names are read out, and read stories of families who lost so much.