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
is parked not too far off, and exhausted recovery workers
are going by, and.... well, not exactly just another beautiful day in the city...
On the way, some bizarre sights among bizarre sights...On the right, this was far enough away from Ground Zero to look out of place. There it was, sitting on a side street off Broadway far away from the destruction. Everyone who walked by did a double-take, then went and stood by it silently for a long time. Probably, like me, wondering what it would say if it could tell the tale of it's life the last few days, and praying everyone inside got out safely.
And the farther downtown you went, the more the National Guard's presence was found. How very strange to have a war ship guarding us at sea, army helecopters protecting us from the air, and the National Guard everywhere you turned. Strange, but wonderfully reassuring. These young men were very courteous but very serious , and I knew I wasn't getting past them.
Down in Little Italy, all the decorations were up for the San Gennaro Festival
that was supposed to begin that day. Instead, that truck (right) is loading up food and donations for the rescue workers.
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 was as far as anyone but rescue workers could get. Staring at that enormous ball of twisted steel, the enormity of it all finally hit me. I leaned on a parked car and just cried and cried....
After awhile I headed toward the water where hundreds of people had gathered to shout words of encouragement and gratitude to the rescue workers leaving the area. Many carried signs simply saying "thank you" or "God Bless You".
This guy was my absolute favorite!! Everytime a worker would come by,
he'd spread his legs way out and wave that enormous flag in huge arcs shouting
"USA....USA...."
Heading back to where I'd been, I passed one of the hundreds of volunteer stations they had set up for food and donations
but there were literally mountains of food and water and clothing on nearly every street corner close to the area. There was so much food, volunteers were giving it away to people passing by. All the restaurants in the area were feeding the workers for free. In fact, Nino's Restaurant in Little Italy continued to do that for months and there was a long waiting list to volunteer to help him with the cooking and serving. Every time I checked, it was filled up. God, how I fell in love with New Yorkers through all of this!!
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.
After awhile, I said a silent prayer and headed uptown...
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.
Look closely at the words on the door (right) as you think back on that huge ball of twisted metal I saw today. That's the spirit of NY--you bend it, we'll mend it. I'd like to meet Paulie, and all the other Paulies in this city. They're gonna mend it all, you'll see.
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
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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,
Spiritsong