story73.xml

story73.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-02-21

On the morining of September 11, 2001, I was finishing a job of evaluating research proposals for state funded breast cancer money. I was gettting a taxi to go to the airport in Albany, NY to pick up a car I had reserved with my colleague and she told me did I hear that a plane had crashed into Tower 1. I said no and no way. I thought it was asamll private of commuter plane which had maybe losts its radar or something. No she said its a big commerical airline. By the time we got to the airport a second plane had crashed and we knew something terrible was happening. All the way down we stopped at he rest stops and when we got to rest stop one,there was a big tv set in the ceiling with about 75 people staring as the buildings toppled or rather collapsed floor by floor like a sea of pancake cement dust. We heard the screaning and pandomonium on screen and just stared and stared. We knew what we saw but I couldn't quite beieve it. My friend was saying who she knew in the buidlings and who might have dies (and by, the way that turned out to be true). We rushed down on the NY Thruway. She has a sick husband who just can not be leaft alone long and I had cats and job to go to. But while worrying about the bridges being opened to get from Upstate NY to Long Island, I knew in my heart that I would attempt to work for the Red Cross in some aspect of the job, because for years I have gone out to other places to help people and I just kept saying, but this is NY I have to contribute. We were luckily able to buzz over the Bewbridge-Beacon Bridge a little north west of Katonah NY. and drove down the 684 to the Huctinson River Parkway. It was erie with no traffice and when we got to the Throgs Neck Bridge separating the Bronx from Queens, Long Island, we saw police on the giant toll plaza waving us through the toll gates which were all open.
No one paid the toll as they would not allow anyone to slow down or stop. The suspected that the bridges might be rigged or that someone might have a car bomb, hence no tolls (very strange) and no stopping. As we came to the Long Island protion of the Corss Island Parkway and drove south it was dead quiet, though we received what continuous news there was via radio, as we drove home. As we came to the Southern State Parkway I knoew there was some serious and terrible business goning on as the state and city police were out and carrying weapons I have on ly seen in Brazil and other developing countries; machine guns, and they woeren't kidding aroiund. They were looking for suspects and they want'ed no troupbe from the likes of us. All that night I received reports of people who knew people who were missing and I received questions about what to do about it. Some of my friends know that I am a Red Cross Disaster Mental health Specialist and a National Instructor of Disaster mental Health and that I know a little bit about the Red Cross goes about its business. I knew from my past RC work that they would have their fingers on the pulse and operation of the missiong persons systems, whatever that would be and I volunteered to take four names of missing people into the Red Cross in Greater new York to see if I could access the resources. When I got ij on the evening of September 12 at around 6;30PM, There were some very tired mental health staff and the Mental Health Job Officer lookinfg for an exkperienced person to take the vening shift and intrerface with the 24 hour fundtions we had up and running. They saw mw and asked and I said yes, which led me to a remarkable, difficult, emotional and compelling next five weeks of Red Cross Action. I was able to connect with missing persons and connect back to those friends who were worried about the four missing people in their lives. Sadly, each on e fo the four is gone! There are so many sotries like that with this Trader Center thing. I worked almost a round the clocl helping to give full birth to the delivery of Mental Health Services in a national disaster for the Red Cross. Once something this enormous is launced we know it is only a matter of time before the headquarters for the work moves to full-tine staffing and the resouces set up in the field (most of them at least) will be running wxtremely long hours if not round the clock. I worked at Red Cross Head quarters for the first 21/2 weeks helping to trouble shoot and to staff the may 24 hour services Red Cross was now and in the future going to provide for 9-11 persons affected and the staff helping them. Them ost compelling story I have from that time at headquarters was when on Freiday September 21, the officer agreed that I should leave headquarters for a field experience. What a field experience it was, too. I was assigned to work as a "Tech", on a boat leaving from the Marine Firefighters Station at the Brooklyn Navy Yard and travel by boat with chaplians and other Red Cross Mental Health staff to take about 50 family members to grouind Zero to see the devastation and to memorialize and honor their loved ones. We left the Navey yard and sailed under the Brooklyn Bridge around the Western side of manhattan and landed near the now metallic dessert of the Twin Trade Towers. There we met the new Fire Chaplain who would be filling the shoes of their dear and beloved Michael Judge who died with fire men in the building collapse. We were walked to the site, which was aweful and horrific and all lit up like a terrible hollywood movie set. There were canine body retreivers climbing over towering infernos of the former Trade Towers. It was a mass grave and had the smell and terror of my mental image of say, London after the Blitz. The odors and sounds were horrifying and the feeling that there were 6000 souls or remians ( at that time we still hadn't been given accurate figures of the number actually missing or dead) of shortly-before living, vibrant people was so sad. The Fire Chaplain spoke, so movingly, with such regard for the lost and for their familiy members that I was moved to internal tears. He was spiritual without being overwhelming or overly dramatic, he was real, yet kind and very sympathetic and I think the fire familiy members receivd his good intentions.

We stayed about 45 minutes, prayed meditatied and the loved ones were given time to "talk" with thier fallen members. I was speechless at the feelings it dreq out in me, of loneliness, of awe and grief and the anger I feel at our governments for not having better securit in place and whatever else was running through my mind. Silently, out of respect for those who were lost and lying in molecules, parts on in whole pieces at varying levels of the rubble, we walked back to the boat. We got in and started the long night ride back to the Navy Yard under the Bridge. The night air was magnificent, perfect and the ride was visually awesome, perfect. We chatted with family members and I handed out lots of white or brown funnsy. fluffy teddy bears to anyone who wanted one or tow or three for themselves, children and gradchidren. After all, these people had just lost sons. husbands, siblings fathers and I thought, what will become fo all these people who woke up, sent a member to work and now traveled throught this sacred and spritiual place created by a momventof revenge, hatred and violence. We returned to the fired house, and then were driven by two wonderful firefighters back to Brooklyn Headquarters, chatting all the way, carefully avioding any talk about what we had experienced that evening in that strange and compelling place. We left our tasks at headquarters at around 4:30 and it was now about 11:00PM. I was set to now work a twelve hour night shift having just worked about 10 evenings straight and then going to my day job during the daytime. Nut, the officers on job told those of us who witnessed the memorial at Ground Zero that evening to go home and get some sleep. We were reminded that we Mental Health Staff needed to take care of ourselves as much as we supported and litened to those affected by the disaster and those who worked to delivery Red Cross Services. So. I got in my car and took the ride home to Long Island in utter spiritual silence. I did not shed a tear, but I wanted to. I didn't tell friends what I heard and saw in the space and ceremony. I didn't think any words I could imagine would conjure for any listener, the terrible, aweful feelings of the emptiness of that extremely busy place.