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On Saturday, September 15th, I just had to go into the city. I wasn't really sure where I would go but knew one place would be St. Patrick's Cathedral. I haven't been a practicing Catholic in many, many years, but I've always loved this church and have wonderful memories of our mom taking us there as kids. So I left the house with the only real plan being to be guided by Spirit, and Spirit sent me back to Canal Street and somehow guided me through checkpoints and places no one was supposed to be unless they could prove they were the press or lived in the area. The thumbnail pictures on this page will take you to a new window where you can see the full picture. Then simply close the window and you will return here. I started my journey in the Village around Houston. It was another clear, crisp day. What you will see is the smoke still smoldering in what would otherwise have been a beautiful blue sky.
Except a huge army helicopter just went behind the building, the smoke was getting pretty strong, and there's the sounds
of the helicopter motor and sirens, and the national guard
Down in Little Italy, all the decorations were up for the San Gennaro Festival
Finally, half in a daze, I followed some silent internal guidance system, and meandered in and out of side streets until I ended up a block from where Tower 7 once stood.
This guy was my absolute favorite!! Everytime a worker would come by,
Heading back to where I'd been, I passed one of the hundreds of volunteer stations they had set up for food and donations On my way back, I ran into three firemen coming out of a local deli. I smiled and looked into their exhausted, tortured eyes...and there it was. That same look. That same smile. I just kind of mumbled something like "thank you" and "stay safe" as I took each one of their hands...they knew what I was trying to say. Everyone spoke with their eyes these days. Everyone was talking from heart to heart and no translations were necessary.
So, back I came for one last look, and by now my eyes were so swollen from crying I could barely see. I couldn't stay, but I couldn't go.
On the way, I passed this truck and thought of all the metal workers trying to cut away that monstrous mass of steel that used to be the WTC to find survivors.
There are two photos I took that helped me make it through the days and months that followed. The first was taken at Washington Square Park. There was a huge canvas erected for people to write messages and tributes. This was my favorite.
![]() The next I found in the garden of a brownstone I passed as I was leaving the park.
![]() "Amen"
Forever In Our Hearts ~ For the Victims Guestbook
A Personal Note to my Visitors All of the graphics and artwork signed by me are my own creations. I ask you to please respect the time and hard work it took for me to make them and to please not take anything without asking permission. Please email me if there is anything of mine you wish to use. More than likely, I will be more than happy to allow its use and honored that you found something here you thought worthy. By the same token, if you ever find anything in my pages that I have not given proper credit for, please let me know.
Love and blessings, |