story12.xml
Title
story12.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-01-28
911DA Story: Story
9-14-01
The city has emerged from the initial shock and numbness. There is more traffic on the streets now that the bridges have been opened, more people going about their daily routines, but clearly not their "normal" lives. Because of all the bomb threats (90 of them yesterday) people are, understandably, jumpy. The overriding sound in this part of the city is sirens. There are signs posted everywhere. On bus stop shelters, fences that surround parks and playgrounds, lamp posts, bulletin boards, store windows. Some signs ask people to donate blood, others list supplies that are needed downtown, others have a photo and the specifics about a missing loved one. Snatches of conversation on the street are almost always about the attack.
I called a collection center yesterday about what things were needed. I brought bags of dry socks, face masks, goggles and work gloves. The center where I brought the items is a big cavernous room. The floor has been divided up into sections with masking tape, so that there is a place to put each item that is required. What looked like substantial bags of goods while walking over, the items, once placed on the floor of the collection center, looked puny and insignificant.
This morning, with the rain, they are asking for ponchos, sweatshirts, dry clothing. Signs ask for batteries, flashlights, the list changes daily. Now that the rain has stopped, the needs will change again.
The only way to describe the reality here is to say that things that seemed so important and significant three days ago, and still are in many ways, are difficult to focus on. But life must go on and that means doing all the mundane things we all do everyday. Even when it seems odd in the face of this enormous tragedy.
I hope everyone is safe.
Annie
The city has emerged from the initial shock and numbness. There is more traffic on the streets now that the bridges have been opened, more people going about their daily routines, but clearly not their "normal" lives. Because of all the bomb threats (90 of them yesterday) people are, understandably, jumpy. The overriding sound in this part of the city is sirens. There are signs posted everywhere. On bus stop shelters, fences that surround parks and playgrounds, lamp posts, bulletin boards, store windows. Some signs ask people to donate blood, others list supplies that are needed downtown, others have a photo and the specifics about a missing loved one. Snatches of conversation on the street are almost always about the attack.
I called a collection center yesterday about what things were needed. I brought bags of dry socks, face masks, goggles and work gloves. The center where I brought the items is a big cavernous room. The floor has been divided up into sections with masking tape, so that there is a place to put each item that is required. What looked like substantial bags of goods while walking over, the items, once placed on the floor of the collection center, looked puny and insignificant.
This morning, with the rain, they are asking for ponchos, sweatshirts, dry clothing. Signs ask for batteries, flashlights, the list changes daily. Now that the rain has stopped, the needs will change again.
The only way to describe the reality here is to say that things that seemed so important and significant three days ago, and still are in many ways, are difficult to focus on. But life must go on and that means doing all the mundane things we all do everyday. Even when it seems odd in the face of this enormous tragedy.
I hope everyone is safe.
Annie
Collection
Citation
“story12.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed January 10, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/15898.