nmah319.xml

nmah319.xml

born-digital

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2002-08-20

Words from New York

September 11, 2001

I was in the kitchen at home when Kathy called me into the living room in a harried voice. She said something had happened at the World Trade Center in New York and that they had just broken in with the news. I turned to look at the TV and saw a gaping hole towards the top of one of the towers with flames erupting. Over the next few minutes as Charlie Gibson and Diane Sawyer, in conjunction with a ABC News producer who was on the street, hypothesized about what may have happened and initial reports that it was a plane crash. Suddenly out of the right side of the screen, another jet appeared disappearing behind the burning tower number one. There was suddenly an eruption of flame on the left and we both realized we had just witnessed the second crash, live on TV. Because of the prior bombing at the World Trade Center, I knew that up to 50,000 people worked there. The horror was surreal. At once, an incredible feeling of dread and disbelief erupted while at the same time my mind tried to rationalize that I had seen worse things on TV before. The flames immediately indicated to me that those at and above the crash level were doomed.

Now glued to the television, about a half-hour later, and then one-hour, there was a sudden eruption of smoke and I knew that the first and then the second buildings were coming down. It was surreal. I immediately wanted to respond to NYC to help. Yet, I knew that my emergency medicine skills were not needed. When the buildings came down the local resources from 170 metropolitan NYC hospitals could handle the load because most of the people were dead. However, the need for Critical Incident Stress Management skills would be in short supply.

September 12th-October 9th

Over the ensuing days I, as did the entire nation, watched the proceedings on television. I contemplated my CISM team?s potential role. I looked for images to accurately reflect the stress, anguish and heroism of that fateful day. On September 12th, there was a previously scheduled CISM team meeting. At the beginning, I lead a defusing of the team members because the strain was palpable. The weekend after 9-11, I put together the ?Faces of Heroes? tribute and my brother-in-law, Jeff had it up on the web that following Wednesday.

In the ensuing weeks, I made sure the CISM team was fully informed and thinking about preparation for deployment. On Friday evening, September 21, we were officially put on stand-by. I then made countless calls to pull together a deployment team. A lot of credit is given to the individuals who within 24 hours had rescheduled their professional lives to be ready to go. Then the long wait began. Back and forth with the host team in NY and with the team members found us on an indefinite (though promised short stand-by). Slowly the deployment team allowed their lives to slip back to normal until we received word on October 2nd of deployment on October 10th.

It was amazing how much concern and interest everyone at home and work had for the impending deployment. One call to my chairman lead to him rearranging the schedule so I could be off. Many, many people gave me their well wishes to take with me to New York. Many others assisted the process in small ways. All want to do something to help with the tragedy. All of them, in their own ways, are contributing through us. My wife, though obviously stressed, understood. I hope she realizes that her part in helping the emergency workers in NYC is equally invaluable. A series of last minute calls and packing lead to the day of departure.

Wednesday, October 10th

At around 0900, Jimmy arrived at my home followed by Christine with Bobbie. I rode with Christine and Bobbie in a marked vehicle on generous loan from Narberth Ambulance. Jimmy followed us over to Second Alarmers. There we were generously loaned another marked vehicle. At 1115 we started our procession north. Hugo, Tom and I lead in the Van with me driving. The others followed in the Expedition. We had radio contact and after 5 minutes stopped at Dunkin Donuts for fuel. Continuing on, we had decided to take the Turnpikes so that we would pass within vision of Manhattan for obvious reasons. Once we were at Newark we decided to stop at Liberty State Park to reflect on the catastrophe. About 1315, we parked and then walked towards the water and that grand lady, the Statue of Liberty. At the waterfront there was a boardwalk that continued north, towards lower Manhattan. It was an eerie and somber walk. The sites were beautiful with the Hudson River, and Liberty, Ellis and Governor?s Islands. Yet, it was as if we were being drawn towards the now missing Twin Towers. Our first glance at Lower Manhattan didn?t feel right. We intellectually knew that the Towers were missing. Because of that the skyline felt wrong. We were at a distance and you couldn?t see anything except the tall crane between some buildings. We continued north pausing from time to time, ever being drawn to a better vista. At the north end of the boardwalk we paused for a while and reflected and took some pictures. There were some things that looked wrong. One building appeared to have a gash in it (it did). There were other tourists engaged in the same reflections. With that we turned and after eating, continued on our way at around 1515.

We continued north and, after joking about whether to take George or Martha (Washington) across the Hudson, crossed into New York. Our goal was a town in Westchester County where the CISM operation was staging. We arrived there approximately 1630. They had told us not to rush. The base of operations is a firehouse belonging to a volunteer fire department in Westchester County, NY. On September 19th, the CISM Command Center was established there. Over the next three weeks it had been outfitted to accommodate the staff and around 20 CISM team members rotating in and out twice weekly. The entire operation; beds, food, furniture, supplies, and communications equipment had all been donated.

When we entered we were immediately humbled. For a volunteer firehouse normally without sleeping accommodations, a twenty plus bed dormitory had been established. Everywhere you looked were cards, signs, pictures, and letters written by school children and others. These many tributes praised the departed brothers and sisters of the emergency service, provided accolades for the continuing rescuers and spurred forth the CISM personnel and their own daunting task. It appeared as if every personal need had been addressed from hygiene to nourishment to entertainment. All of this was from community generosity. We selected our beds and settled in.

After arrival I ran into some acquaintances from the CISM world. You could read the stress and exhaustion in their faces. Paul used to be FDNY. He is co-coordinator of the host Hudson Valley team. His volunteer fire department responded to cover Brooklyn during the disaster. This added to the stress because most of these firefighters had never done urban firefighting before. Doug is a CISM disaster coordinator and is retired FDNY who has a son in FDNY. He and Paul lost many friends that day. Jeff and George are the founders of the CISM process. They play and fight the political battles. Jeff is originally from New York and is a firefighter. They have been to many of the big disasters of the last 20 years. You could tell this one was different for them.

During our orientation the command staff thanked us for being there. We tried to emphasize our thanks for being allowed to assist in our own way. Later, the day?s team(s) returned from their assignments. These guys were from North Carolina CISM and nearby Ulster County and Connecticut. The gang from North Carolina had come in on Saturday. While they were on a statewide team, they had never met each other before the train ride up from the south. You would never have been able to tell. They appeared best of friends. At the evening briefing, we learned that the CISM team was supporting primarily an existing Police peer program called POPPA (Police Officers Providing Peer Assistance). I had assembled a diverse team. While the various members are multi-faceted in their emergency service backgrounds, only two are primarily police peers. After a delicious steak meal, we had the evening briefing. Four of us had been assigned to assist POPPA at the WTC site, Ground Zero. I was honored at having been among those selected.

We are the first CISM team from Pennsylvania to be deployed to NY. We are the seventh CISM team, nationwide, to go to NY. As for Pennsylvania in general, I know of only two other organizations that officially responded to NY. These include the rescue component of Philadelphia FD and the Western PA USAR teams. We are very proud. We truly feel that we are here representing all the citizens of Montgomery County and the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.

Sleep that night was interrupted. The North Carolina boy in the next bed sawed an entire cord of wood. Having been warned, I had earplugs at hand. They helped somewhat. One falling out in the middle of the night didn?t.





Thursday, October 11th

Up before 0600 and into the shower. There is only one for the twenty of us. I decided an early start was best. After a hearty egg and BBQ turkey breakfast, we were off to distant Manhattan. Early on the leadership here had decided that the CISM teams needed to be away from the city at the end of the day. So we start our trip in from about one hour out. We followed an Ulster County Deputy named Joe. I had Jimmy drive because we were promised a fast and furious trip. They weren?t wrong. We left around 1000 and arrived around 1100. Once into the heart of the city, traffic was heavy. We passed down the FDR drive on the East Side of Manhattan. Once we passed the United Nations, the road started to split with overhead signs stating for emergency vehicles only. We passed through a couple of checkpoints and ended up at our destination, the Federal Reserve Building. Roads and sidewalks were blocked. Utility vehicles were everywhere. Traffic crawled at best.

We rode into the city with a retired NC police officer who before that had retired from the marines. Colorful would be a limiting term him. A nicer guy you couldn?t meet. He was quickly nicknamed ?Gunny? and he was perfect for this peer process. He filled us in on a lot of the issues we would be facing.

On the 13th floor of a nearby building are POPPA?s offices. During a brief orientation and lunch we were told what we would see and be doing. The North Carolina Guys would be our guides. They described what we would be seeing at Ground Zero as humbling. They were right. Our job was as an outreach to the Police Officers at Ground Zero. This was in preparation for demobilization sessions at the offices. Also, at any time, officers walk into the offices and require defusing. We were there supporting POPPA, so we wore POPPA t-shirts.

From the office windows we could see some shrouded buildings. This was to keep broken glass from falling on people below. From the 13th floor we could also look down on many a rooftop, all still thickly covered in the Gypsum, and whatever else, dust that had coated everything. We were told that they had only just started searching rooftops and had found many body pieces. (Now that is unnerving, they are too small to call body parts).

We left the building and turned towards the Hudson. As we walked up a small rise in the road, the upper space of where the World Trade Towers should have been started to come into view. Barricades blocked the civilians to the sidewalks. Tourists were stretching with their cameras to capture a piece of the visible ?wall?. It was strictly a skeleton, sort of like an old key punch card. Also visible was the edge of a building. Windows were blown out, remaining steel and structure was scorched. This was our first taste as we passed the first checkpoint. One block done. One more block led to the next checkpoint. We showed our ID?s and passed through the perimeter. We passed by a church, undamaged by the event. It had a small cemetery out back that was still thickly covered in gray ash.

Our job was to cover the entire perimeter making contact with officers and national guardsmen along the way. At each block or turn we met another group of 3 or 4 or more at a time. The officers were engaged and the purpose of our presence was explained. They were told that POPPA was a volunteer organization with no connections to NYPD. The EAP/Psych services of the NYPD were usually shunned because they were required to file a report. Anonymity and confidentiality were what the officers sought. The crew from North Carolina was perfect for this. Their southern accents immediately said that they were not from around here. We let them know that there were people who cared about them. They received a pamphlet and encouragement to stop on by. You could see it in their faces, the got some hope back.

Block by block we zigzagged around the perimeter. Each cross street yielded a different aspect of the destruction. From one wide street you could see the ?pile?. It had stretched to about 10 stories high. This was just 10% of its predisaster state. Now it appeared to be around 5 stories high. They had dropped it about one story a week working 24 hours a day. On top there were firefighters. You could see NYPD ESU officers, the elite rescue unit, in rappelling gear. They were the ones dropping down into crevices to see what was there. Smoke continued to emanate from the belly of this monster, from 1800-degree fires that have burned since the beginning. For this reason, it is believed that most victims are now ash having been cremated in the heat. The workers on top of the pile sprayed water to keep the dust (and probably he heat) down. An excavator on top lifted large claws of debris and dropped it over the edge. From there another excavator then lifted it into one of the endless line of waiting dump and hauling trucks who then took it to the landfill on Staten Island.

The immensity of the destruction was overwhelming. It used to be that to see the top of the towers, you had to crane your neck till it hurt. Now, at the same time, it seemed, and really was, all at eye level. There was the 5-story pile with the 10 story skeletal wall on one side. Around that buildings were in various states of damage and destruction. Many had windows blown out. Others were completely destroyed. Fire scorched a few. One building was stark in its contrast. The wall described here was 90 degrees in its facing related to the towers. The windows were all blown out. The half closest to the pile was covered in thick gray ash; the more distant half was scorched from fire. In the closest half you could see desks up against the void where the windows had been. Computers still sat on the desks. One building had a huge gash in the corner facing the towers about 30 stories up. This is what we saw from Liberty Park. The buildings from about ½ a block away to two blocks were all vacant and dirty. Many were occupied by official governmental agencies. Many had hastily spray painted messages with arrows from those first few hours and days. ?Triage?, ?Hospital?, ?NYPD Temporary Command?, ?First Aid?, ?DMAT?, ?Morgue?, and many ?Evacuation[s]? were seen.

Stores, restaurants, offices, and banks were all vacant. They had been replaced by an impressive array of tents and vehicles there to support the many workers. There were a DMAT disaster field hospital, Red Cross and Salvation Army assistance and nutrition tents, and innumerable eyewash, sanitary and shower stations. Many sites were serving hot meals with a variety of cuisines including an impressive looking coach bus kitchen from Uncle Ben?s Rice. Cellular phone companies were there offering free calls. Besides the Salvation Army, there were several religious entities present including a disaster church built on a street corner.

We continued our outreach heading towards the river. As we walked away from the pile, we passed the DMORT, disaster mortuary and command post vehicles for a number of local, state, and federal agencies. A morgue refrigerated truck was being loaded. We walked to the river. We passed a memorial for some other purpose that was half finished. An American Flag had been raised in the center of it. At the rivers edge is Battery Park. It is more like a paved boardwalk along the river. A tour boat or ferry pulled up and discharged just a handful of people. The major buildings in about the third block out all had barricades and security checking photo IDs. We continued around past the marina, now empty except for a fleet of rental sailboats and a few official boats. Debris floated in the water. Pictures I had seen in the past had it full of luxury yachts. On the other side of the marina was a memorial.

Up to this point I was taking in the sites in an overwhelmed manner. There was just too much to see. First there was the pile. Then there were the many facets of the disaster operation. Then there were the people. The police and National Guard maintained security. They looked bored and tired. Many of them worked full duty shifts elsewhere in the city then put in mandatory overtime on guard. This duty didn?t spare anyone. Undercover cops with beards and scruffy hair, and detectives wore uniforms they were unaccustomed to being in. For eight or twelve hours they were exposed. The construction workers looked harried as if rushing from one project to ours. There were many brass, some of whom appeared pompous. The police ESU officers walked as if they were on a mission from God. The few firefighters I saw closer up all had blank looks on their faces. They were zoned straight ahead with no emotion in their faces. They had been here too long, worked too hard, and lost too many friends. They had insufficient time at home, opportunity to talk, or hope. Essentially, they were devastated.

Until now, I had my professional ?shields? up taking it all in. Then the North Carolina guys took us to the NYPD Police Memorial. This is a permanent small plaza that predated this event. Inscribed on a wall were the names of officers who had lost their lives in the line of duty. Sadly, there is plenty of room for more names. Now a makeshift memorial had been added. It contained framed posters that listed photos and names of the 23 NYPD, 37 Port Authority Officers, and 343 Firefighters who had perished. All around were letters, pictures and tributes from family, friends and strangers. There were also mementos from visitors to this shrine. The North Carolina Officers had been to Ground Zero and this memorial before. You could see it still affected them. I would bet more so now than on the first day. Here I let my ?shields? down some as I read letters from family to a departed firefighter. Special moments were shared as were pride and love. You could read the anguish and void between the lines.

Time to move on. Across the street was a similar makeshift memorial to the civilian dead. I couldn?t read the messages there. The backdrop for this was a small park and then a large steel and glass structure that used to connect to part of the WTC complex. The glass on the riverside was intact and you could look through to the sky and smoke. The group moved on now heading back. We were like a slinky. We would split off two or three at a time to engage the officers spread out over about a block. Then we would spring back together as we headed to the next intersection.

We entered another cross street and yet another perspective on the pile. Large cranes stood ready to lift the massive pieces of steel in amongst the rubble. One of them had a massive American Flag flying effortlessly in the breeze. If only the tasks below were so easy. On one cross street a steel-beamed cross had been erected. We were told that when the towers collapsed, a large beam fell through the roof of a lower building severing the long support beams in the middle. The cross supports than bent down yielding an endless line of crosses like ?tttttttttt?s ? on a page. They have nicknamed this the ?House of God?.

As vehicles leave the perimeter they receive a mandatory vehicle wash. The washers wear full environmental suits and use fire hose and power washers to wash down everything from the largest hauling tractor-trailers to official cars. Constantly a sanitation truck circles the inner perimeter spraying water on the ground to keep the dust from rising. Still, there is dust and ash everywhere.

We passed two fire engines both of them obviously there from day one. The first I saw was a pumper. Its windows were blown out, gray ash was all over it and access doors were all open. Yet it was still connected to fire hose and was still pumping water as it probably had been since day one. The other was at the last corner we saw the wreckage from. It was a ladder truck on the street next to the pile. The pile itself covers about two square city blocks. Next to and above the truck is a partially collapsed balcony. It has not been searched yet and still contains debris, gypsum ash, and probably people. This last perspective of the ruins is no less daunting than the first. There is that skeletal wall from a different side. The pile of debris with wisps of smoke is still there. So are the people, the equipment and the sounds. Surprisingly, there is not much for me in the way of smells. I can sense a faint odor of fire. You can smell cement and diesel. That was pretty much it. Perhaps the wind is blowing just right. The whole scene is surreal. We are there witnessing it. However, the enormity of it doesn?t seem to get through.

There is a tension in the air that screams that they just want it to be back to some semblance of normal. Of course the definition of normal has changed forever. Everywhere, there are signs of recovery and rebuilding. Phone, electric, water, sanitation workers are all working furiously to get the area hooked back up. Construction workers are not only around the pile. They are also in the surrounding buildings cleaning them out and preparing them for repair or demolition. Storeowners are painstakingly cleaning each item and shelf. Outside of the perimeter there are more utility workers and, of course, police. Mostly there are people rushing to get to their job or train or whatever is next in their day. You can see it in their faces, too. They are trying not to register the drastic changes around them.

After our walkabout, as it was termed, we returned to the POPPA offices. We had connected with about a hundred individuals. In many of them you could see a change of demeanor. Once back at POPPA we talked about our exposure and what we felt about it. We met with the POPPA clinical director and learned more about the organization, what they were trying to accomplish and where they were in that goal. It was being well received but the officers aren?t ready yet. They started to come in more before our attack on Afghanistan. Then they had to go on maximal alert and the full professional mode started over again. This is going to be a long process for all. We are just barely beginning to feel the swell at the start of the wave. At some point the wave will crash over everyone. Then it will be real intense for a long time.

Our trip back to base was action packed in that we joined the NYC rush hour. On the return trip, we passed many of the same sights along the East River, but now they seemed different. We returned back about 1900, nine hours and forever since we left. On my bunk when I returned were a small American flag, and three cards from well wishers. Two were hand written from an organization called Heavens Helpers. One of them started with ?Dear Fellow Americans? and went on to ask God to give us strength to help those in distress. The third was a note wrapped around a cross. It was from a woman in Louisiana to a woman who was looking for her husband of 31 years in New York. Heavy stuff for sure.

Back ?home? at the fire station, we talked about the day. Christine and Bobbie had stayed back to be available at base. They were cooking a big meal when we returned. The news was on with the latest discussions about the war on Afghanistan and the Anthrax event. Before we left this morning the news was about the one-month memorial service at Ground Zero. There is a lot of information to process from today. Maybe writing about it will help. After dinner we had the evening meeting/decompression where we discussed the days activity. It is also the last night that the North Carolina boys are sleeping here. There were expected emotions as the magnitude of the day and these good-ole-boys departure were intertwined. You could tell that they felt humbled by their time here. They wanted to stay and go home at the same time.

Friday, October 12th

Last night I was up until 0100 trying to get the images of the day onto these pages. I was the last one to bed and counted at least six major league wood sawyers. Thank goodness for those earplugs. I found out last night that I would be staying back today. There was some snafu where an expected team did not arrive. This left them short for the day?s missions. I don?t mind. It will give me a chance to finish getting yesterday?s events onto ?paper?.

Tom and Hugo, along with the North Carolina and Ulster County guys went back down. We had only known the North Carolina guys for about 36 hours. It is amazing how quickly groups of people can bond. We were sad to see them go. Later, we heard about their day. There was a debriefing with about 30 officers who had all been at Ground Zero that morning. They had lost coworkers. The descriptions were quite graphic. The emotions were palpable. A walkabout of the perimeter was done reaching at least 100 officers. A defusing was done on one officer who was at Ground Zero that day. The individual barely survived the collapse. When this person walked into the POPPA offices you could feel the weight and anguish. When observed leaving it was a different human being now with a spring in their step and peace on their face.

Christine and Bobbie went with Jim from Connecticut to what was supposed to be a National Guard debriefing. They arrived at the specified time to find the ?meeting? all but over. From their observations, whatever had been said to the soldiers was a dismal failure. The little they heard was inappropriate psychobabble. Luckily, we had packed them off with snacks. So, when the meeting ended the soldiers were invited by our team to take something. This got them close enough to talk with. The change in their demeanor went instantly from bored disinterest and annoyance to animated conversation. These soldiers are frustrated and afraid. They are military police who have been tasked with guarding Ground Zero. Many of them are veteran police officers. At a time when our country is at the highest state alertness ever because of a strong expectation of domestic attack, these fine soldiers are not allowed to carry any weapons. Therefore, not only can?t they defend anyone else, they can?t even defend themselves. Also, on a day when a case of Anthrax was discovered locally, they were ordered to leave their biochemical protective gear at the armory.

Back at the CISM center, I gleaned some insight into the workings of such a complex operation. The Hudson Valley CISM team has two individuals who are well respected in CISM circles as their coordinators. They have been tasked by the ICISF (International Critical Incident Stress Foundation) as the coordinating site for the New York disaster. Since the beginning of this event they have been fighting an uphill political and bureaucratic battle. There are a lot of well meaning individuals and organizations out there who have not a clue how to approach this event from a ?psychological? perspective. The WTC CISM Team is here to probe the politics to make sure the emergency workers get the help they need. It is also here to be available when these various groups realize they are over their heads. We are also here to support the local CISM resources for non-WTC issues because the local teams are ?off-line?. The people locally either responded to New York or know someone from the NYPD or FDNY because many of those officers live out this way. Tomorrow there is a funeral in the next town for a FDNY member who is still MIA.

Another problem they have is that neither the City or State of New York has officially requested CISM services. Apparently everyone agrees that it is needed yet, without the official request, CISM is not part of the federal disaster declaration. What this means is that most of the CISM and POPPA personnel are doing their regular long shift jobs and then doing this in their off time. It also means that disaster monies are not available to support the operation. This just further adds to the stress, which is what we are trying to alleviate.

The WTC CISM operation is trying to do two things currently. One is to proactively wind their way through the politics and the second is to have resources available for need. There is a fair amount of guesswork involved. Last week they had noticed an increase in CISM requests and interventions. This was due to a distancing in time from the event. Schedules were starting to be relaxed, days off were being given, and defense shields were starting to come down. Then we attacked Afghanistan, which immediately heightened alert in NYC to a new level and shoved everyone back into operational mode psychologically and operationally. Now there is the anthrax business, which pushes anxiety even higher. This doesn?t allow the officers the opportunity to talk and reflect. The CISM need is just at the start of the swell at the beginning of the wave. Paul and Pete, the coordinators are trying to make sure that when the wave comes crashing down, that everything is in place to help. This means communications, logistics, personnel and facilities. A daunting task to be sure. They are to be commended.

It was a quiet night in the bunkhouse. One team had left and another did not show up as promised. Some last minute replacements arrived late and were settled in. No earplugs were needed this night.

Saturday, October 13th

A point I forgot to mention is the Nextel phones. They are a godsend for this operation. They were obtained from the state. The two-way radio feature is priceless considering the distance into the city and how spread out everyone can be at times. As part of our orientation, we were told that we were expected to call home every day. I had called Wednesday and Thursday. I hadn?t called last night because I knew that Kathy had plans out. I called my daughter this morning because she was going on a scout camping trip. She really misses me, which feels good and hurts all at the same time. I?ll call to talk to everyone else later.

Hugo and Jim went back into the city with the two new arrivals. It was a quite day around the station until their return. I typed up a health assessment, from my perspective for the CISM response, of the WTC site. I also did some work on this and other miscellaneous tasks. I was the chef for dinner. Minestrone soup, grilled lemon pepper chicken, peas, cucumber salad, chicken rice with vermicelli was the meal. Ben and Jerry?s was for dessert. The firehouse has a commercial style chicken. Cooking in it felt like being a fish out of water. Even the stove was unusual and of course, I had no idea where anything was. The meal was well received by all.

At the evening defusing/meeting we heard the reports from the downtown crew. It was the first visit for one of our folks; the other didn?t have a picture ID and had to hold back. Again, the emotions are there as is that same word: ?humbling?. Jim spent a good part of the day on the walkabout and returned revved-up. Hugo stayed in the office as a clinician. Again, the reports are that the officers are hurting and are starting to open up in small ways. The new member, Tony, said that once they engaged an officer, that person immediately looks to the badge to see where they are from. They have a lot of concern about confidentiality within NYPD and are relieved and relax when they find out that these POPPA peers are from all over the country and that POPPA is not part of NYPD. The North Carolina guys easily broke the ice with just their accents. The northerners need some extra help. Handing out candy, police patches and other trinkets really works wonders. Especially effective trinkets are angel pins brought down by the Chief of Police from Manchester, CT. These were not only well received, officers, construction workers and others actually started asking for them. Also a great icebreaker are departmental patches and pins.

As for the rest of the day, other officers arrived from Massachusetts. Miscellaneous tasks were performed that help to support the entire operation. I finally was able to access e-mail and get some information out. At the evening briefing I found out I was going down again tomorrow.

Sunday, October 14th

We headed out around 1030. For this trip I was in the backseat of a patrol car behind the cage. There is no legroom so it was uncomfortable for the hour drive. At least the seat was padded. It is an interesting ride in. Since this was my second trip, I was able to focus on the surroundings. It is at the peak of fall foliage up here so and we are an hour out so it is quite beautiful. Slowly, the landscape transitioned to urban from rural. Eventually we were along the East River. You could see the barge traffic, many bridges, and an apparently good fishing hole (judging from all of the boats there). The Empire State Building is off to the right. It is once again the tallest building in New York. Eventually, you could see the United Nations and we actually passed underneath it. In the distance to the left you could see the Seaport Museum with its historic ships. Then the emergency vehicle lanes and police check points turned us toward our destination. We again parked on the sidewalk and went up to the POPPA offices.

POPPA, just like the Hudson Valley WTC CISM operation, is a preexisting organization that is plagued by lack of official recognition and resources. Yet despite this, the leadership and members have pulled together a vibrant operation fueled by a lot of heart and dedication. They have managed to find the people and organizations that are willing to help. An example is the entire suite of fully equipped offices on loan from the Federal Reserve Bank of NY. I was assigned to stay back as the clinician for any walk-ins with one of our police peers and one from NYPD. The rest went down to Ground Zero to do the walkabout. We managed to busy ourselves while idle. There were no walk-ins. When the perimeter teams came back those of us left did an abbreviated walkabout.

This time we took a different route that was deeper into the operation. Periodically, we stopped and made contact with the officers. This time we engaged Firefighters. They were a lot more receptive than the last time. This was an observation made by a number of the walkabout teams. Even construction workers were interested to varying degrees. Even though it is a Police Peer organization, everyone is welcome at their demobilization offices. One funny question came from a construction worker. We were wearing jackets that said ?POPPA CISM? in big letters across the back. They wanted to know what federal agency we were with because of all those letters.

The last time I was here, the closest we got was about quarter block. I can now say that I have stood on Ground Zero. Woe. The electrical smell is stronger than the other day although the wind is blowing stronger. I still don?t detect any odor of decay. At the edge of the pile we spoke with firefighters and construction workers who actively were working the pile. On a brief break, they were accessible and interested. It is a shame there is no POPPA group specifically working on their interests. It is all politics. After talking, I was able to just stand there and watch.

The debris line started where we stood. Behind us, the street had been ?sterilized? pretty well except for mud run-off. We were told that on Day 1, the debris was everywhere. It extended to the surrounding buildings and up the radiating streets. One can only imagine the destruction and pandemonium. We were told that it was indescribable. While I watched, the excavators were active. One construction worker was using an arc welder to cut through steel beams. It is hard to believe that thousands of people died here. And for what? Nothing. Looking way from the pile, you see the surrounding buildings. All charred, windows at least blown out, usually entire walls are missing allowing a view of the interior. I can see desks, office doors stand open, computer monitors, file cabinets, are all there. Looking up and out a little further are taller buildings with varying degrees of damage from actual gashes into interior rooms and stairwells to a multitude of broken windows. Beyond that is the sky and intact buildings. Back to the pile there is the noise of heavy equipment, the site of destruction, the smell of electrical burning, the taste of I guess cement, and the feeling of handshakes. There is also another feeling of sereness despite all the activity and noise. This is truly hallowed ground.

We continued around to the police memorial area next to the marina. As mentioned earlier it has been informally expanded to include all the uniformed workers who died that day. There were additional mementos left. There were more flowers including formal wreaths. Across the street is the makeshift memorial to the civilian victims. Later at the meeting, the walkabout teams who were out earlier mentioned that there were families there when they passed by. They were obviously upset and distraught. It was hard for them, I am glad that I didn?t see that.

As we walked away, we passed another building that outwardly appeared okay. Workmen were emptying the contents onto the sidewalk in front. There were stacks of chairs and desks and file cabinets, basically all of the contents of the offices. Many of the surrounding buildings will need to be demolished; this is probably the first step. I also saw a police officer that had come from the direction of Ground Zero. He was covered from head to toe in the fine gray ash. I also noticed occasional particulate in my eyes. We continued to another area of the pile. We passed a checkpoint where there was another fire truck that has been there since Day 1. It is still pumping water though it is leaking like a sieve from underneath. It is a kind of metaphor in that all of the personnel are still there doing the work since that fateful day.

Now passing the pile from the south we walked right next to the overhead enclosed walkway that connected buildings. One side is still attached to a building. At the other end, nothing. It was now dusk above and dark at ground level in the city. Bright lights were now shining on the pile and that skeletal remaining wall. Whereas the rest of the city is winding down on this Sunday evening, here at Ground Zero the only change was an eeriness that arises from the shadows. The ambiance added to the perception of holy ground.

We are pressed for time to get back to the office. We quick marched it back passing through deserted streets. Above, there are window washers seemingly everywhere. I had noticed this earlier. They are vigorously power washing the outsides of buildings. In other areas I had noticed them using the standard squeegee method. The last thing I realized I had seen everywhere, but not registered until there was nothing else to look at, were traps. At regular, close intervals there were large rattraps. A sobering thought.

Back at the offices we had the end of day defusing. The new people who had viewed Ground Zero for the first time discussed their feelings. Disbelief, anger, sadness, sobering, and humbling were all used. There was also pride. Pride in their being there to do their part and pride in the workers that are there every day. We also learned from the earlier teams that there is a growing interest in POPPA amongst not just the police officers but also the firefighters. There is also frustration from the firefighters that they have nothing like POPPA directly tasked for them.

We got back late at around 2000. There was another card placed on my bed. It was a hand written note praising our work and offering a blessing. A feast was awaiting us. Two volunteer firefighters from near Middletown had driven about an hour or more to the station today. They arrived before lunch and made, reportedly, outstanding Philly steak sandwiches. For dinner they had waiting (everyone waited to eat until we returned) chicken and veal parmigiana with spaghetti and fresh salad with rolls. We are definitely eating too well. Two volunteer massage therapists had come earlier in the day. They had also helped at the Worcester fire tragedy. So, after dinner I had the opportunity to receive a massage and talk with the therapist about her discipline. The generosity is amazing. Around midnight, a new team from Florida arrived. They had been requested Friday late and left Saturday late. The trip was uneventful except for getting lost at Trenton. It seems that Interstate 95 runs up to Trenton without a clear indication of where to go next. At the end of the day I was told that I would be staying on-call at the station. Good, I?ll get to sleep in and take a shower after everyone else has left.

Monday, October 15th

At something like 0615, the fire alarm went off. There were some people already awake so they investigated quickly and found that the furnace/boiler was spouting soot. So there was no fire. I hadn?t even gotten out of bed when I heard that. However, they had to get someone to come from home to shut off the darn alarm. I am told it took a while. I had put in earplugs and somehow managed to fall back asleep. I finally crawled out of bed at around 0820. The downtown crew had already left.

After showering and breakfast, Bobbie and I walked to town via a picturesque bike walk to buy milk and trash bags. We were out approximately 90 minutes so it was a pretty good walk. The region is at peak fall beauty and the trees along the walk are gorgeous. It was a quiet day at the station. Small tasks were done to assist the operation. A key thing I did was to clear out the refrigerator of any food that was there when we arrived. The daughter of the woman with chest pain stopped by again to say hello. She is so appreciative of our involvement. Later, one of the deputy sheriff?s from Florida appeared from the dormitory. I had assumed he had gone downtown with the other five members of his team. It turns out that he is in charge of his team. Apparently the stress of pulling everything together at the last minute and the long drive had whipped him. He awoke exhausted with URI symptoms. He made the difficult decision to stay behind. He had just woken up from a three-hour nap. We had the chance to talk about a lot of things CISM related and life in general. He felt guilty not going with his team. I assured him that he needs to be in top form for the experiences downtown. (The next day he agreed).

I had the opportunity to talk with the command staff. Tomorrow will be our last day. I had previously told them that we would put in a full day then leave for home directly from Manhattan. The staff appreciated the health assessment. Tomorrow they plan for me to go to the Freshkill landfill site on Staten Island. This is where all the debris is being taken and sifted through by investigators. I will do an assessment there in advance of intervention services starting there.

Dinner tonight is being cooked by some of the firefighters from this station. They made steak for us last week that was excellent. Tonight?s London broil is equally tasty. We ate without the downtown crew. They had called to say that they were running late.

I thought I was done my entry for the day but something happened late. There was a special episode of Third Watch on right at the end of dinner. It was a two-hour special titled ?In their own words?. It contained interviews with emergency workers who had been at Ground Zero on 9-11. The only connection with Third Watch was that the stars introduced each time segment from that day (Impact, Response, Collapse, etc.) It was an extremely powerful segment. The interviewer had been edited out. Responses were grouped by time. Police, Fire and EMS were represented. The descriptions were very graphic; the emotions were too real. They started out with some of the workers having witnessed the actual impact of the first plane. The descriptions of bodies and body parts raining from above were horrific. Then they talked about the people who were jumping presumably to escape the fire. After about thirty minutes I had to walk away for a little. It was too intense. The stress reactions were extreme. The emergency workers were really hurting. One of them was a Vietnam veteran. He echoed the sentiments of our police peers who were also in Vietnam. They all said that this was worse than combat. Of course, our police peers were there thirty days after that obscene day. This officer on the show was there at the beginning.

I walked back and forth to the TV. At least three of the interviewed workers were probably already suffering from PTSD. My observation is that they have been horribly scarred by that crime. Most are not back to work. At the end of the episode they listed all of the emergency workers to die there by unit. Just about (or every) unit lost someone except for Ladder 6. I had seen a Dateline special about them. They had been in the second tower that collapsed. They had made it to the 27th floor when the first tower came down. They turned to leave but were slowed in helping a disabled woman. They made it to the 4th floor stairwell landing when the building came down. When the noise abated, all of the members of that unit, plus some other firefighters, two Port Authority Police officers and the woman all survived. If they had moved any faster or slower, they would have died. Seeing that rolling list sent chills down my spine. I felt unsettled afterwards.

Luckily, we found out that we were not needed until noon the next day. Packing could be done in the morning. Also, the entire Montgomery County team was going downtown tomorrow. When done we would be defused there and then go home from Manhattan.

Tuesday, October 16th

I rose around 0600 and showered before the rush. With a ratio of 20:1 shower, grooming has gone surprisingly well this past week. After dressing, I sat to write a letter for the CISM site. Every team gets their picture taken. It is placed in a binder. Team members are then invited to write their thoughts about this experience for others to read. I will incorporate these thoughts into my last entry into this journal.

Breakfast, packing, photos and an out-briefing filled the rest of the morning. We met with the command staff. We discussed our impressions both ways. I told them that I was impressed by all that they had accomplished on just the good graces of others (and a lot of hard work). I complimented them on the operation and all of the little issues that they had covered. They stated that normally with the teams coming and going that they (the staff) do a lot of nurturing. In a very sincere statement, they said that with our team it was different. They felt nurtured by our presence. Wow, what a heartfelt comment. This is yet another humbling moment.

I called home before I left and spoke to Kathy. I filled her in briefly about my experiences since our last conversation. She told me that on Good Morning America, the Buckingham Palace Guard Band played American songs on Times Square. She said that the crowd started to sing along. The entire scene was very emotional and was emotional for her. Boy, she can feel it too, a hundred miles or so away.

In the parking lot we said our first round of good-byes (in case there was no opportunity later). It was difficult to say goodbye to what I consider the best of the best. I can?t remember when I had ever bonded so quickly with a group of individuals. With a full house, almost everyone going downtown, and our departure later from the city, we had a convoy of five emergency vehicles for the trip. It must have been quite a sight since the deputies lead us at about 75 MPH.

One last time down the interstate with the fall foliage at its peak. Down FDR Drive along the East River. We went past the UN, the Empire State Building, the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges, and the first of several checkpoints. We finally parked on the sidewalk at the Federal Reserve and went in. Christine and Bobbie felt a little out of place as this was their first time here. The deputy who stayed behind yesterday also felt a little out of place. Part of it was probably anticipation of what they would see today.

When we got to the POPPA offices, we were told that the leadership wanted to meet with all of us a little later. We had to stick by the offices. So, we went to lunch one floor below in the Cafeteria. After lunch we were informed that we might not go to the landfill. Apparently, an advance team scoped it out late yesterday and found it very difficult referring to it as ?hell?. The time for the meeting kept getting pushed back which became very frustrating for all. Around 1500, we had the meeting. It included background of the operation and the current politics. They emphasized the incredible importance of our presence there. They understood that some felt as if they hadn?t accomplished enough.

Afterwards, we found out that we were leaving immediately for ?hell?, the Staten Island landfill with the longstanding name ?Freshkill?. It was emphasized that in Dutch, the original European inhabitants of the area, ?kill? means river. Still there is consideration for renaming the site.

Bobbie elected to do the walkabout at Ground Zero. Hugo, Jim, Christine and I went with a deputy and NYPD to the landfill. Amazingly, the best way to get to Staten Island, NY is to go through New Jersey. Who would have thought that? Leaving Manhattan we passed through Chinatown. It was dingy, run down, and all a bustle. It could have been in any third world country. On the way to Staten Island, we passed the best of New Jersey. Refineries, highways, treatment plants, warehouses, and Newark International Airport. I really started to wonder where the hell we were going. But that was it, they said we were going (the scenic route) to hell.

As we approached ?Freshkill?, we saw an incredibly high hill. It is a closed landfill. I guess in a thousand years when everything inside decomposes, it will be as flat as the surrounding terrain and ready for a housing development. My first impression was that of a dismal bland locale. And this was at the bottom. The operation is at the top. As we drove around to the access road, we passed the docks, barges and tugboats. We then began the muddy climb to the top. It is ringed in a high fence with barbwire along the top. It reminded me of photos of camps from WWII. We started to pass debris piles and heavy equipment. There are many excavators with those large claws. Bulldozers and large dump trucks and haulers are well represented. More debris, more trucks, more equipment are seen along with many individuals in white. Looking back, you can see a river with many barges and blue cranes that empty them. The entire setting is surreal. You feel like you are on another planet. All the workers are dressed in protective garments with respirators, boots, goggles, and hardhats.

The entire process goes like this. There is a tall pile of rubble at Ground Zero. An excavator sits on top. Its ?claw? lifts up a pile of debris and drops it to a lower level where it is again picked up by another claw and dropped to ground level. Another excavator claw picks it up and puts it into a large hauler or dump truck. It is then taken down to the river and dumped into a large barge. Tugs take the barges to Staten Island. Another large lifting claw lifts it out of the barge and puts it into another truck that then hauls it to the top of the hill where it is dumped. Yet another claw picks it up and puts it into a large hopper on a sorter. Big pieces like building parts go one way, smaller pieces come out on a conveyor chute. A police investigator then picks out important larger pieces. The remaining ?sifted? debris is then taken to another vacant area (like a lot). There it is dumped onto the ground and spread out rectangular flat by bulldozer. A line of investigator then line up and foot by foot use a rake, or similar, implement to poke through the smaller debris. It is separated into building parts, airplane parts and other evidence, and finally, body parts. The body parts are then sent back to Manhattan for processing through the disaster mortuary operation.

There, the pieces are logged in and examined. Identifying features are noted and specimens are then taken for DNA typing. In another area, fingerprints from the scene are processed. Another area does the DNA typing. Yet another area catalogues any personal items. Meanwhile, investigators have visited families? homes and dentist offices looking for fingerprints, samples of DNA (as from hair roots or toothbrushes) and dental records. They also interview family and close friends to elicit identifying marks (scars or tattoos), past history (especially surgical), and any knowledge about clothing or jewelry worn on that day. All of this information from both sides is entered into a computer database. The computer then attempts to match identifying information with items obtained at the scene. The sad goal is to try to identify something from everyone involved. As you can imagine this is gruesome depressing work. To be in this environment doing this kind of work day in and day out, to this magnitude and level of destruction, has to be horrific.

We enter the mess tent first. It is a doomed temporary structure, tan in color. Outside, very much out of place are four palm trees donated by a landscaper (complete with their sign). It is a nice sentiment but sadly only adds to the surrealness of the location. There is a long line of Porta Pots outside. Some of them are signed for ?women only?. Inside the mess tent it was a very bland environment with folding tables and chairs and a large screen TV in the corner. In the mess tent we interacted with the workers who were ending their shift. We also hung up small signs about POPPA and a large banner with a multitude of well wishes from police officers in Arizona.

Next we go to the staging/supply tent. The structure is the same domed type as the mess tent. Inside it was even more surreal. This is where the construction workers and police investigators suit up. We feel like we are in a space station airlock. When dressed, the workers are in head to toe white Tyvek garments with large respirators. Goggles, helmets, gloves and boots complete the outfit. They then exit to the outside to begin work.

Outside again we notice two very large structures being built. They are the huge tent type structures you may see at a convention center. They are large enough for many large trucks and construction machines. They are preparing for winter. Hell can get worse. Everywhere you look you see destruction in piles. There is a stiff wind blowing. The windchills up here will be bad. It is loud. There is a methane smell from who knows where. We walk over to one corner that for me was unsettling. There, stacked up like cordwood, are hundreds of crushed, smashed, burned emergency vehicles. Fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, rescue trucks and other official vehicles are all there. These vehicles were at Ground Zero. Most of the people in them are no longer here. It is one thing to see destruction and have someone tell you that there were 5000 people in there. It is another to connect with symbols of the destruction that emphasizes the loss. One fire truck, probably a pumper that would normally stand 10 feet tall, was flattened to about three feet. Incredible.

There is a small National Guard detachment on site. At the beginning they provided all the services at the landfill. Now the city is bringing in commercial entities at a whole lot more money to do what the Guard was doing, and is willing to continue to do, for salary costs only. Another example where politics suck.

It is time to retrace our steps back to Manhattan. As we leave the mountain, we again pass by all of that debris. Debris that used to be at Ground Zero. Debris that used to rise ten stories high from the wall of one building to another. Debris spilled onto side streets radiating outward. Debris that used to protect and provide comfort to over 5000 human lives. Debris that could have contained 50,000 lives. I never imagined that I would be witness to the result of such pure evil.

We return to the POPPA offices to have a combination defusing and out briefing. We share our thoughts about the visit to Freshkill. Gene tells us that we will feel different when we go home. He says that it will take a while to process everything. He thanks us for our efforts. We praise their efforts. This visit is starting to wind down.

We then go to dinner. Afterwards we decide to visit Ground Zero one last time. It is partly to pay our respects one last time. Probably, we want to retain this image lest we forget. Partly it is because one of our team had not been there yet. We walk the one block to the barricade holding back the visitors. We go around it and show our ID. We walk to the chain-link gate blocking access to the last block. We stop to talk with the Police and National Guard. We open the gate and enter one last time. We walk one half of the distance to Ground Zero and stop. It was now after dark. I had seen it the other night. The others had not.

The experience is different. Perhaps it is more intense. The loss of natural light plunges the peripheral scene into darkness. Large spotlights shine on the pile. This focuses your gaze directly on the pile because peripheral vision is in darkness. There is still the same degree of activity as during the daytime. The claws lift, the trucks move, people are running around everywhere. Yet, it seems slower. With the spotlights, there are more shadows, contrasts are starker, and there is more detail on the pile. You can see a small figure or two on top of the pile. They are roughly a city block away. They appear so small. The pile does not. The arc welders spit their sparks. There is a distorted thud as debris is dropped into the trucks. You can hear it better because the city beyond is quieter. There is still the sound of heavy equipment and generators. We study the details of the pile probably trying to etch the details into our minds. It won?t be here next time we visit.

The pile is noticeably smaller. At its peak it is now about four stories down from the five on my first visit. There is less of the skeletal wall standing. Down from the ten stories at the beginning. Almost six weeks, around six stories. Never mind that it is really 110 stories we are talking about. In one area they are actually working below ground level. This is new. An excavator is in the hole using its claw so efficiently. They weren?t down there the other day.

There is still smoke and steam. With the lights it only adds to the shadows, and briefly distorts the view. We see a large roughly cylindrical structure that appears to be made out of something akin to aluminum. It is damaged but definitely not a part of the building. We hypothesize that it may be the tail of the plane body. Too large for an engine, the metal looks right, as does the shape. We talk with more officers and one tells us it used to be a fountain. He had visited the towers and had forgotten about it until he saw it tonight. It used to be in the lobby of one of the towers. Now it too is waiting to be hauled away. I also remember something. I had taken a picture from the top of the observation tower. It was taken around 1987. I remember the setting sun, the Hudson River reflecting it and the Statue of Liberty. I remember the very long elevator rides. It seems a lifetime ago.

At around 2030 we turn to leave this hallowed ground and the heroes that still work on the pile day in and day. When we get back to POPPA offices for the last time, Joe took one look at us and dragged us in for another defusing. Finally, close to 2200 we all left. Our team is heading west then south. The other teams are heading north back to the station. This is it, the big goodbye. Hugs and good wishes go around. We are all sorry to see it end. However, we are ready to go home to our loved ones. We have been asked if we will come back. I am sure that members of our team will. As for me, I don?t know if I could ask Kathy to put up with my absence again. Only time will tell.

We confer about how to get the heck out of Manhattan, saddle up and leave. With the many blocked streets, it was slow going. Eventually, we found the entrance to the Holland Tunnel. From there the traffic was light and it was ?downhill? to home.

Two events of note occurred during the trip home. I am driving the Van with Hugo as copilot. The others are in the Expedition. We ask Bobbie in the Expedition for a joke, which she offers. I reciprocate with a joke that is met with silence then a ?not now? response. A few minutes later they ask if we are listening to the New York jazz station. We are. On the radio had been ?A New York State of Mind?. They noticed. We had not.

The other event is on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. We are in the middle lane approaching a tractor-trailer in the middle lane and one to the right. The tractor-trailer ahead suddenly swerves to the left then recovers. I wait. It appears that the driver is again in control. We pass to the left and just as we approach the cab, it again starts to ease left. I hit the siren. Boy did that get his attention. He slows down and pulls off the road, I hope to sleep.

We return to Second Alarmers close to midnight where we say good-bye to part of our team and return the van. I check the odometer on the Van and discover that we had put 800 miles on it. Thank you Second Alarmers. Christine, Bobbie and I pile into the Expedition. Christine drops me at home. It is 0100. I had spoken to Kathy before midnight. At that point I realize that since I hadn?t driven my own car, I don?t have my keys. The house is locked and she is asleep and doesn?t hear the bell. Luckily, the garage door keypad works and I get inside. At 0130 I make it to bed. The alarm is set for 0550. I have to be at work at 0700.

Epilogue

I did manage to go to work that morning. And, yes, I am tired. Shortly after I arrive I am asked about the trip. I answer that I am not ready to talk yet. After eight hours I go home to my family. I haven?t seen them in eight days. Every one gets a five minute hug. After that I work 12-hour shifts on Thursday through Sunday. Thursday night after my 12 hours, we have our post incident debriefing of the debriefers. It is helpful to talk. I start. Later I combine two phases and my team members comment. Others have more to go but I can?t. I am on hour 15 and need to go home. After the weekend I then teach all day Monday and Tuesday at my medical school. Then I have five more days in the Emergency Department. During that I have to go to two scout meetings, two karate sessions with Shayna, a school Halloween party, Josh?s birthday party and an orthodontist and dental appointment. My last day off at home was October 8th. My next is October 30th. This is truly a long session of running at full throttle.

Despite the activity, I have had time to reflect upon my experience. First there were the daily defusings while in New York. Then we had the team return home debriefing. By Friday night after my return I had organized my pictures. I told Kathy about the trip using the photos. I have also spoken w

Many aspects of my life are focused on service to my fellow man. Fortunately, that part of my life didn't need any change. However, since that time, I have striven for more balance across my entire life including family and fitness. Life is too short already to squander on unimportant issues and to shorten even more by unhealthy living.

Before September 11th, I had great concern about the future of our society. From my intimate perch working in an emergency department, I regularly deal with society at its worse and at the same time, the worst of society. I saw a general downward spiral in our nation as people became more materialistic and less concerned about their fellow man. Our nation was starting down a road that many failed civilizations had been down. People are more focused on feeling good, and less interested in working hard. Political and industry leaders were making decisions that had more to do with improving their own status than being in the best interest of their charges. Family and community life was deteriorating as priorities were shifted away from them. The population was increasing its use of mood altering substances and dabbling in sexual perversion. The overall health of the country was deteriorating as obesity increased and people became more sedentary. The value of human life decreased as the homicide rates and related crimes increased. I was very concerned that should an international need arise, such as occurred for the ?greatest generation? during WWII, that people?s indifference would doom any response. In my discussions with people, I told them that I didn?t hold out much hope because I could see nothing on the horizon that would suggest the dramatic change required to change the direction of our society.

Unfortunately, that was until September 11, 2001. The magnitude of the event shook our nation to its very core. In an instant, everything that people had thought was so important was brushed aside. People turned back to their families, their religion and their communities. They responded better than I thought was possible. I was gratified to see the downward spiral stop but horrified at what it took to accomplish it. I am concerned that people will too soon forget what was really important and return to their prior course. What I think needs to be remembered about September 11th is that when it comes down to it there are very few things that are important in this existence: family, religion, country/community. Please spend your efforts each day for the general good of all three.

Before that fateful day I was very patriotic. I had worn a uniform of my nation and served it in many realms. However, I was not real good at displaying that patriotism. The American flag flew proudly from my properties and vehicles. It is important to honor the flag. It serves as a focus for a general attitude of honoring the nation. Just as you should not take god's name in vain because it cheapens it, we should display and respect the flag as that will serve to strengthen the flag and by extension our great nation.