email161.xml
Title
email161.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
email
Date Entered
2002-04-25
September 11 Email: Body
Pierre -- It was so good to talk to you, and so good of you to call.
I thought afterwards that I didn;t do very well at giving you a sense of what the city is like, and it's perhaps of some interest to you and Nina, and perhaps others, since you're so far away. Here's a try at an idiosyncratic rendering:
This is Saturday, and the first day there's been anything close to normal traffic on the streets, which are still terribly quiet. All the better to hear sirens constantly, day and night. All of lower Manhattan is sealed off, although they're opening some subway stops down there Monday, so that the stock market can open. Except for one day, it has been heartbreakingly beautiful weather, deep blue clear skies, except that when you look south, there is a gorgeous tall puffy white cloud which is a funeral pyre of steam and dust. It has blown toward Brooklyn until today, and a friend in Brooklyn Heights with a huge terrace sprays it down every few hours because of the dust and paper, which blanketed lower Manhattan and Brooklyn after the collapse, much of it intact, some of it burned around the edges, and some shredded into something like confetti.
The little firehouse around the corner, which you walked past on your way from the playground to the hotel last summer, lost seven men. The rest of the crew is down there digging, and a skeleton crew has been sent from the Bronx to keep the station open. I asked them if anyone had brought food so they wouldn't have to cook, and they said if I knew anyone who would like to come and eat with them, they were drowning in food people had brought. The front of the station is a wall of flowers and notes, as is every other firehouse in the city -- 300 firemen are missing, because 10 alarms had been pulled and most of them were in the two towers evacuating people when they collapsed.
Most subways have been opened up, but some still can't run at all, or into downtown Manhattan. Broken water mains and water from the fire houses has flooded several subway stations. Several bridges and tunnels are closed so that they can be used by emergency vehicles. There was no train or bus service into the city until Thursday, and most tourist sites or theaters -- Lincoln Center, all the museums, all Broadway shows, etc. -- were closed until Friday, all to avoid providing another target. Most of lower Manhattan is still without power, and a major telephone interchange station was next to the WTC, so most of lower Manhattan also is without phone service, and other phones have been affected. There are panic closings all the time -- bomb threats (90 on Thursday alone), spotting of suspicious cars (all of Staten Island has been sealed off several times), airports opening up and then shutting down because someone with an Arabic name tried to board a plane. There is an aircraft carrier permanently stationed in the harbor so that the airspace can be continually patrolled by helicopter gunships and fighter jets. (The likelihood that an innocent passenger plane will be shot down because of miscommunication is really high.) A hospital ship has been brought in to provide living space and medical treatment for the hundreds of federal rescue personnel who've been shipped in. All TV stations have been broadcasting news without commercials 24 hours a day.
As of Friday, 700,000 people had volunteered for anything they're needed for. Of course, there's not nearly enough for that many to do. Whenever they send out a call that something is needed -- say, clean socks for the searchers -- thousands of pairs of socks materialize instantly. They're now appealing for people to stop giving anything but money, because getting rid of the excess food and clothes and everything else is a huge problem. It all comes from this urgent need to do something, anything, both because events have made everyone feel helpless, and because the rescue effort, constantly televised, is so truly heroic. (Only in New York would people think it's perfectly reasonable to remove 220 stories of skyscraper piece by piece to reach a survivor or two, and only New Yorkers are tough enough to actually go and do it, largely BY HAND.) There have been many cases of construction crews walking off the job and showing up at the site with their tools, demanding to help. In most cases, the boss is right behind them with the company's heavy equipment. Ironworkers have come in, unasked, from around the country, and have apparently done an incredible job cutting up the beams so they can be carted off.
I gave blood on Wednesday and only got in the door because I'm O neg. Even being that picky, they had to close the doors at noon with 800, and it took until midnight to process that many. (I must say, the Red Cross was fabulous.) When all these waiting donors had to eat, one of them paid for 15 pizzas from a nearby place, which promptly spread the word and boxes and boxes of fruit, sandwiches, soft drinks, noodles, and god knows what else started arriving from neighboring stores.
Of course, there's also been some looting and other unpleasantness. But it is so out of character with the predominant tone, which is very quiet and kind. Strangers look at each other and talk to each other -- unheard of for NYC! There's an apprehensive air in the subway or in elevators -- most people feel very vulnerable. But there's also an exquisite sensitivity to the fact that most people have been affected in some way. I was in the drug store the other day, and there were four other customers. One was a neighbor buying stuff to treat his eyes and lungs, because he'd been down shovelling debris from side streets. One was someone who walked out of the Trade Center. Another's brother had gotten out. The fourth, who had obviously been crying, couldn't reach four different friends or neighbors who worked for Merrill Lynch.
The above is to compensate for your being in stoical Switzerland, and hopefully rounds out what CNN has given you. Hope it makes you feel closer to home. My love to you all, thanks again for calling, and keep in touch! TS
I thought afterwards that I didn;t do very well at giving you a sense of what the city is like, and it's perhaps of some interest to you and Nina, and perhaps others, since you're so far away. Here's a try at an idiosyncratic rendering:
This is Saturday, and the first day there's been anything close to normal traffic on the streets, which are still terribly quiet. All the better to hear sirens constantly, day and night. All of lower Manhattan is sealed off, although they're opening some subway stops down there Monday, so that the stock market can open. Except for one day, it has been heartbreakingly beautiful weather, deep blue clear skies, except that when you look south, there is a gorgeous tall puffy white cloud which is a funeral pyre of steam and dust. It has blown toward Brooklyn until today, and a friend in Brooklyn Heights with a huge terrace sprays it down every few hours because of the dust and paper, which blanketed lower Manhattan and Brooklyn after the collapse, much of it intact, some of it burned around the edges, and some shredded into something like confetti.
The little firehouse around the corner, which you walked past on your way from the playground to the hotel last summer, lost seven men. The rest of the crew is down there digging, and a skeleton crew has been sent from the Bronx to keep the station open. I asked them if anyone had brought food so they wouldn't have to cook, and they said if I knew anyone who would like to come and eat with them, they were drowning in food people had brought. The front of the station is a wall of flowers and notes, as is every other firehouse in the city -- 300 firemen are missing, because 10 alarms had been pulled and most of them were in the two towers evacuating people when they collapsed.
Most subways have been opened up, but some still can't run at all, or into downtown Manhattan. Broken water mains and water from the fire houses has flooded several subway stations. Several bridges and tunnels are closed so that they can be used by emergency vehicles. There was no train or bus service into the city until Thursday, and most tourist sites or theaters -- Lincoln Center, all the museums, all Broadway shows, etc. -- were closed until Friday, all to avoid providing another target. Most of lower Manhattan is still without power, and a major telephone interchange station was next to the WTC, so most of lower Manhattan also is without phone service, and other phones have been affected. There are panic closings all the time -- bomb threats (90 on Thursday alone), spotting of suspicious cars (all of Staten Island has been sealed off several times), airports opening up and then shutting down because someone with an Arabic name tried to board a plane. There is an aircraft carrier permanently stationed in the harbor so that the airspace can be continually patrolled by helicopter gunships and fighter jets. (The likelihood that an innocent passenger plane will be shot down because of miscommunication is really high.) A hospital ship has been brought in to provide living space and medical treatment for the hundreds of federal rescue personnel who've been shipped in. All TV stations have been broadcasting news without commercials 24 hours a day.
As of Friday, 700,000 people had volunteered for anything they're needed for. Of course, there's not nearly enough for that many to do. Whenever they send out a call that something is needed -- say, clean socks for the searchers -- thousands of pairs of socks materialize instantly. They're now appealing for people to stop giving anything but money, because getting rid of the excess food and clothes and everything else is a huge problem. It all comes from this urgent need to do something, anything, both because events have made everyone feel helpless, and because the rescue effort, constantly televised, is so truly heroic. (Only in New York would people think it's perfectly reasonable to remove 220 stories of skyscraper piece by piece to reach a survivor or two, and only New Yorkers are tough enough to actually go and do it, largely BY HAND.) There have been many cases of construction crews walking off the job and showing up at the site with their tools, demanding to help. In most cases, the boss is right behind them with the company's heavy equipment. Ironworkers have come in, unasked, from around the country, and have apparently done an incredible job cutting up the beams so they can be carted off.
I gave blood on Wednesday and only got in the door because I'm O neg. Even being that picky, they had to close the doors at noon with 800, and it took until midnight to process that many. (I must say, the Red Cross was fabulous.) When all these waiting donors had to eat, one of them paid for 15 pizzas from a nearby place, which promptly spread the word and boxes and boxes of fruit, sandwiches, soft drinks, noodles, and god knows what else started arriving from neighboring stores.
Of course, there's also been some looting and other unpleasantness. But it is so out of character with the predominant tone, which is very quiet and kind. Strangers look at each other and talk to each other -- unheard of for NYC! There's an apprehensive air in the subway or in elevators -- most people feel very vulnerable. But there's also an exquisite sensitivity to the fact that most people have been affected in some way. I was in the drug store the other day, and there were four other customers. One was a neighbor buying stuff to treat his eyes and lungs, because he'd been down shovelling debris from side streets. One was someone who walked out of the Trade Center. Another's brother had gotten out. The fourth, who had obviously been crying, couldn't reach four different friends or neighbors who worked for Merrill Lynch.
The above is to compensate for your being in stoical Switzerland, and hopefully rounds out what CNN has given you. Hope it makes you feel closer to home. My love to you all, thanks again for calling, and keep in touch! TS
September 11 Email: Date
9/15/2001
September 11 Email: Subject
city
Collection
Citation
“email161.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed June 2, 2024, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/37755.