september-11-memorial_1

Observations from Albany & Greenwich

In a conversation with a friend the other day, he mentioned that he spent an afternoon in Dallas last year. He had visited Dealey Plaza and the Sixth Floor Museum. I’ve never been there.

But isn’t that how outsiders mark our lives? By our tragedies. If your parents died or divorced, or you were molested as a child, or you were bullied – it explains so much about who you are today.

I’m standing by the south pool. I’m too short to see all the way to where the second pool ends – the second layer of the waterfall. Maybe no one can see more than me – even on my tiptoes, I just see water rushing into a never-ending black square. But I remember waking up to a mother who for the first time in my childhood couldn’t explain what was happening on TV – or how we would spend the day. 

Today the north waterfall is off. The pool is quiet, glistening in the bursts of sunshine and peacefully nodding next to the waterfall’s edge – like the end of the fire, the end of the collapse, when everyone who could be saved had been. And groups of us throughout the rest of country gathered in churches, sat in circles, holding hands in prayer. But there are less people around the silent pool.  There was no white noise in which conversation could hide, or to disguise weeping.

I don’t know her name and I can’t see the name she’s  weeping into, but twenty yards to her right, I’m crying with her. I can’t stop it. We mark our lives in tragedies because we want to understand. At least, I do.

Christopher Michael Grady.

I can almost stick my pinky finger into the hollowed, sans serif font capitol C. I don’t know him, or anyone who died in the Towers come to think of it. Matthew Carmen Sellito. Deborah Merrick. Prem Nath Jerath.

My eyes skim over every name as I walk around the square.

As I am walking away from the North Pool,  a little boy is gazing up, covering one eye. I asked him what he was looking at. “I’m imagining what it looked like.”

He was eight.

Has it really been more than a decade?

About these ads
This entry was published on April 24, 2012 at 4:54 pm. It’s filed under My generation, New York, NYC and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

One thought on “Observations from Albany & Greenwich

  1. I clicked “liked”, but “moved” would be more appropriate …. a thought provoking piece for which I thank you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,092 other followers

%d bloggers like this: