It's been seven years since I used a clock radio to wake me up in the morning. On this date in 2001, I had been back in California only three years. I moved home after having worked on Wall Street for five years, only six blocks from the World Trade Center. I had friends who worked in those buildings, and in the area. I used to walk there for lunch twice a week--falafel or a souvlaki from a wonderful little cart run by a man named Sammy.
My alarm went off at 6:00am PDT on this day in 2001, and the very first thing I heard was a female reporter saying, "...Once again, a second plane has just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York. We will keep you updated as the news progresses...." I turned over to face my wife, who I met in New York City. We had spent a decade of our lives there. We both looked at each other. One of us (I forget who) said, "What?"
Seven years have passed. I don't consider myself to be the type to dwell on things--especially death, which is a long conversation we shall have one day. But it wasn't until about three weeks ago that I realized why I have used my cell phone, an old-school alarm clock with those loud bells, and even a kitchen timer as a means to waking up. I considered using a clock radio to wake me up today as a step in the healing process. I could not bring myself to do it, for fear I would wake up to something terrible.
Instead, I went to a local cemetery with my girlfriend (who is from Long Island, NY), and walked the grounds with a lit candle. I found an American Flag flowing gently in the breeze, dawn backlighting the overcast sky, and took a moment to read the plaque dedicating it to veterans who have sacrificed overseas. Silently I mouthed a prayer to them, to the lost of that day seven years ago, and the lost in the current strife across the Atlantic and elsewhere. I left a page I printed out on the ground in front of the flag, with a single candle burning on top of it. It had four pictures of the World Trade Center on it, two of which were pictures of the plaza at street level--pictures you don't see often, pictures of the area I remember most.
Did I heal? A bit more every year. Maybe 2009 is the year I will be able to use a clock radio again.
5 years ago
1 comment:
It was an honor to walk beside you early this morning, my fellow New Yorker. Ten years in the city warrants citizenship, even if you are a Rangers fan. *gentle smile* Thank you for the tender invitation into your noble, yearly ritual. In the past I'd say a prayer, or write, or call my family back home--all of which I plan to do. But walking with you in the morning light, desperately protecting the flames on our tiny candles with each step, made the memory resonate within all the more. Loves and blessings to you, dear David.
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