Yes, I still am enjoying myself, along with my family, on our vacation in New York City. I'm collecting stories to tell almost as fast as the 200+ pictures that I've already taken to share. The things I want to mention about yesterday are this..............
We ventured into the Subway underground world (which was an experience in and of itself), walked in the heat till out clothes were soaked, rode the Statten Island Ferry (twice), then walked some more till we stood in silence along with hundreds of other people at Ground Zero. We stood and stared and then wiped away tears inside of the chapel. I was ok until I started looking at the collection of signs that were posted when family members and friends were looking for loved ones that were unaccounted for after the attack.
It was haunting walking through the streets where the buildings were higher than the eye could see and the sun could be seen down the block but nothing felt but a cold breeze blowing through what seems like a dark alley to me. We were on Wall Street.
The police presence was everywhere and while I felt physically 'safe', I admit that my soul felt a gap that I quite can't describe. I glared at the memorial signs that listed the names of all those people who died on September 11th and thought to myself of all the thousands and thousands of people who were connected to those people - family members, friends, coworkers - and how much was lost on that day.
I walked through the cemetary in front of the chapel where time has worn away the names and dates of those bodies resting below and then I glared at a picture of that same cemetary on Sept 11th where the same grave markers where more than halfway buried in rubble and papers from where the towers collapsed. I looked at the letters and posters from people all over the world and then I looked at those small pictures and posters from the families and friends of those missing. I thought about how filled with fear and desperation they must have been in dealing with the "unknown" and how difficult that must have been.
I thought about all the volunteers that gave hours upon hours to find those buried in the rubble. I saw the cots that they slept on before the got back up and went back to work again. I ran my hands over the cast iron fence where thousands of people left their candles, flags, signs, posters and memorials after the attack.
I looked at that empty hole in the city and prayed silently along with those around me.
God Bless us all.