We were visiting New York for a family wedding. It was a doozy and afterwards, we and Richie's brother and his wife went out to Montauk for a couple of days. Tuesday morning I noticed a group of guests staring at the TV in the dining room and wandered over to see what was so interesting.
I returned to our table and answered the question in their eyes by saying, "Some idiot flew a small plane into the World Trade Center."
At the pool an older woman laughed to me, "My son is a cop and he got assigned moving the cars in the underground parking garage. His back is going to kill him!" Another remarked confidently that her husband is a nurse, but that it was their 15th wedding anniversary and he could just call in tomorrow.
By mid-afternoon, flags fluttered from balcony railings in front of nearly every unit.
The empty sky was a clear brilliant blue despite the fact that Montauk is on the flight path for JFK. Silence and stillness ruled the air.
Back in Huntington, the front door of St. Patrick's church had a list of known dead parishioners - 12 - and the next day the number was 18.
At breakfast at a diner, the man in the next booth , back to me, was recounting his escape from one of the buildings to two women facing me. He was speaking as if he was in a trance. Their faces were horrified. I looked down at the table top.
It took us three years to be able to visit The Hole. Despite cranes and mechanical things crawling around below us, there was a deep sadness still permeating the sit.
And now there is a 911 Museum, filled with macabre remembrances of those terrible days. Admission: adults $24, seniors and US veterans, $18
No thanks; my memories are vivid enough.
"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal." Anon.
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