A lot more than buildings of mortar and steel were shaken up by the events of this past Tuesday. America experienced a shaking that reached into it's very roots. The assumption that "it can't happen here" has been jolted out of us. The belief that even when a terrorist attack succeeds, its damage will be limited and isolated has been demolished. "Airport security" has become an oxymoron. Confidence in our intelligence services and national defenses has fallen. And any lingering notion that being on the side of fairness and freedom and justice for all was any kind of insulation against massive tragedy is now banished forever. Gone are the days when all we had to fear was fear itself.
Michael Elliot, writing for Time, was not exaggerating when he wrote, "For Americans, September 11, 2001, will go down in history as a day the world changed."1 We have been shaken to the core.
We preachers like to think we can draw "lessons" from the events of life, and this horrific event, being so dramatic and traumatic, seems to offer an obvious one: No human defense is certain, and no human life can be guaranteed by any agency of earth. Only God is unshakeable and the only unshakeable place is the kingdom of God itself. The writer of Hebrews says as much: "Therefore we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken."2
But the problem is, while we who are people of faith can assent to that on a "spiritual" level, in the nitty-gritty of our lives ¯ that place where we reside most of the time - that affirmation doesn't connect very well. Yes, we who follow Christ are citizens of both an eternal kingdom and an earthly nation, but what, in any terms that help us now, does that duel citizenship really mean?
The people of the Old Testament had to struggle to understand that as well, and one place we see it is in Psalm 46. The psalm sings about the city as though it were absolutely untouchable: "though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult ... God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved."
With the bringing of the Ark of the Covenant there, and the subsequent establishment of the temple in that city, the people came to understand Jerusalem as the place God had chosen to reside. For them, it was "the city of God," and thus unshakeable.
Now it's fine to have a location that serves as a visible symbol of God's presence. But it's another thing to rely on the symbol for salvation rather than on the presence of the God the city symbolized.
It seems, however, that that's what happened. Jerusalem did eventually fall, specifically to the army of the Babylonians, and when that happened, the people of the city must have felt much as we Americans did on Tuesday, and continue to feel today. We look at great symbols of our country - twin towers that symbolize free trade, a root fact of our way of life, and a five-sided building that signifies national military might, our assumption of national security - and we have a sense of despair.
What the people of ancient Jerusalem missed is that while God was in the midst of the city, he called them to trust not a place but a Presence. And if they had paid attention to their history, they'd have seen that the dwelling place of God was never static. In the wilderness, it was represented in the moving pillar of cloud and pillar of fire and by the Ark of the Covenant carried along with the people. Later, a shrine at Shiloh became God's dwelling.
So what made them think that after the temple was built that God's presence would be forever thereafter localized there? Perhaps it was because the temple seemed such a permanent structure, with its massive stones and overlays of gold. But like the twin towers, it was eventually brought down.
And then the people were marched away to exile in Babylon. No temple, no shrine, no Ark of the Covenant. But there, separated from the city of God, they found that God was just as present.
Today, while there are those within Judaism who want the temple rebuilt, others have a view not tied to brick and mortar. Rabbi Pesach Schindler of Jerusalem put it as "we have all our spiritual centers within us. That is where the temple should be built."3 Or, to put it another way, the city of God is a place within, and our ultimate confidence is in the holy Presence in that "place."
Last month, my wife and I went to New Jersey to see our son. He lives just a few miles from New York City, and one afternoon, he drove us there to take a circle tour by boat around the island of Manhattan. The cruise begins on the west side of Manhattan, in the Hudson River. The boat was crowded with sightseers, and as we chugged down the Hudson toward New York harbor, we of course saw the twin World Trade Towers standing there. They looked very solid, and we could not have imagined what would soon happen to them.
There was a woman and her teenaged daughter in the seats next to us, and we fell into conversation with them. They were not tourists, it turned out, but native New Yorkers. The woman had lived in the city all her life, and loved the place. But her husband had been transferred to Denver. He was already there, and that week, the wife and daughter were to drive out to join him. Both mother and child were unhappy about moving away.
I asked the woman why she was on the tour. "It's a last loving look at the city," she said. "It's got to last me for a long time. I'm taking it with me."
That's an example of what it means to be a citizen of a spiritual city. There is that to which we trust our souls that does not depend on outward circumstances.
In this life, we must dwell and work and shop and learn and even worship in material structures. We have to travel in machines made by human hands. We have to trust our well being to these things even knowing that there is no guarantee that they can withstand every force, malevolent or otherwise. It is part of the risk of living, and we really have few alternatives.
But we can carry within that other citizenship, that other city. The New Testament calls it the kingdom of God, and it is both something that is yet to come in its fullness and that is already here.
Times like this national tragedy remind us of that. The terrorists showed us a lot about the nature of evil, but the reactions of ordinary people to it demonstrated a good bit of kingdom behavior. There has been a lot of it. Reactions considered typical of New Yorkers, including irritation at stalled traffic and peevishness at indecisive pedestrians, were muted. And people walking to escape the destruction were met with small acts of kindness from complete strangers. The proprietor of a Chinese delicatessen was out front handing out bottles of water. A hardware store owner gave out dust masks. With no subways or buses or taxis running in the area, some drivers gave rides to frantic pedestrians. Many people waited patiently in lines to give blood and others volunteered to help in other services to the injured.4 Rescue workers risked their own lives - and many lost them - to help others. And there were many more good deeds.
I believe our nation will survive the awful attacks of this week, though the cost to us as a people is high. I believe we will find comfort from each other. We will probably find at least some of those behind the crime and may even, in the long run, be able to make terrorism so costly to perpetrators that it will diminish. I certainly hope so.
But whatever comes, if we trust God, our citizenship in the city unshakeable remains secure, and that helps us live in this world with hope, and courage, and even joy.
1 www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,174540,00.html.
2 12:28
3 Richard Ostling, "Time for a New Temple?" Time, October 16, 1989, 65.
4 http://www.nytimes.com/2001/09/12/nyregion/12REAC.html?pagewanted=1
SAN FRANCISCO (CBS.MW) -- We're all in the mood to send a message. We've seen the images for days now, often through moist eyes: The horrible stream of videos showing every possible view of the plane piercing the steel building and bursting out of the other side. The twin towers and other buildings crumbling to the ground. The once mighty Pentagon dented like a warrior's shield; a gaping plane-shaped hole in a Pennsylvania field.
The next phase immediately unfolds as tears and acts of personal heroism grow into anger and determination. American flags fly everywhere. We will find them. And we will punish them. We will send a message.
Well, let me propose another way to send a message. Actually, it's not really my idea. I've been hearing it over and over again from our readers.
Buy!
That's right. On Monday invest as much and as often as you can in America.
Send the Dow screaming for the moon.
Call your broker, sign on to yourbroker.com, dust off your PalmVII. Do whatever it takes, so when that New York Stock Exchange bell rings Monday, it looks like the doors flying open on Nordstrom's annual sale. Obviously, any one who invests is taking a risk. And each of us has to look into our heart to see how much we want to risk, and what the rewards are for that risk.
Said one investor named "Neckbreaker 2000" on an Internet message board: "Terrorists want us to crash. No selling! Long USA." "I will not short it. I can't in good conscience profit off betting against my nation," wrote "Detu10yr" in another post. "I will take the portfolio hit if necessary, but sleep at night." Another explained that he will put $2,500 into stocks Monday morning. The reason that I will risk my cash is to show the terrorists that American financial buildings may crumble, but Americans don't. If I lose my money, I will consider it a gift to those who have died." If there's a profit, he said, he'll donate it to the Red Cross.
Logan Darrow, publisher of American Venture magazine, suggests that every investor buy 100 shares of stock and hold it. In what he calls the "Great American Stock Revival," Darrow wrote that it would show the terrorists their attack "failed to destroy America."
This is the clearest message Americans can send the world. It says that we are determined not to be pushed around, that we will put our money where our mouths are and stand up for our economy and the way of life it supports, which is exactly what the enemy aimed at when they flew those planes into the World Trade Center buildings.
Let the army fight with their weapons, guns. Let us fight with what we have: our wealth and determination. It's a proven fact that after most national disasters, stock markets have risen over the following year. Everything else happens faster these days, why not this?
If our markets soar on Monday, we will stun the world and prove that we are serious. That message will be very clear: If you want your fortune to be safe, invest it in America and its industry. Buy stocks. Support every company you believe in. Execute those trades early and often.
It's as close as you can get to feeling like you are pulling the trigger against our enemies.
Larry Kramer is the founder and chief executive officer of MarketWatch.com.
That Day
I should have slept in that day,
But I went to work.
I should have turned back that day,
But I didn't see the evil that lurked.
I should have stayed on the first floor that day,
But I was up on the sixty-first.
I should have run down those stairs that day,
But I helped someone else escape instead.
I should have known the building would fall that day,
But I never let the thought enter my head.
I should have run quicker when the floor shook that day,
But I was too numb to feel dread.
I should have
realized I might die that day,
But I was in total denial.
I should have used my brain more that day,
But I was acting stupid
all the while.
I should have told you I loved you that day,
But I knew that would crimp my style.
I should have prayed that day,
But there weren't any words in mind.
I was almost to the front door that day,
When the floors came crashing down.
And just to think I almost died that day,
Makes me frown.
I may not have been able to hold you after that day,
And it makes me so sad.
I'm happy I got that message that day,
For now I know what I have.
I want this to go out to all of the people who had friends and family in those buildings, and those who had to deal with the pain of lose, and the agony of waiting. I hope God blesses you all, and that you can find peace in a time of such turbulence.
Von
Beware of scams if you receive email asking for donations for World Trade Center relief funds
See the following article below, before sending money to any site you hear of through web pages or email, and before forwarding messages on to others. Apparently fraud emails are already heading around. http://abcnews.go.com/sections/scitech/TechTV/techtv_emailscam010914.html
The NursingHands staff wishes to send their thoughts and prayers out to all the friends and families of the victims of this horrible attack, as well as giving our best wishes to all nurses (and rescue workers) involved in helping the injured.
We have opened a forum to allow you to discuss this tragedy with others. This is a time where many will need to express their sadness and concerns, or just vent their anger. Most importantly, its a great way to show your support to those who are working tirelessly to help those affected by this tragedy.
You may join in this public forum by going to the following address: http://www.nursinghands.com/ForumMonkey/index.html?fid=4
For our registered members, we have also asked for your input on whether or not "you think the US should hold countries that harbor terrorists responsible?" Let our users know your thoughts by clicking the link below: "Do you think the US should hold countries that harbor terrorists responsible?"
If any nurses in NYC would like to get involved if they are not already, here is the Red Cross Web site with many answers to your questions.
Again, all our love goes out to those in the New York/DC area and to those with friends & relatives on all the flights. As we are doing here in NYC, we encourage all Americans to help out in any way they can - whether its donating blood, sending flashlights, or directly helping the survivors.
-NursingHands Staff
See Ask the Pastor for not only for the older columns (Walt is in the process of writing about this week) but also for links to Bible studies, devotions, service plans and aids, and donations through LCMS World Relief and the Red Cross.
http://www.ishaah.com/America0911_02.htm
Well, you hit the World Trade Center .. but you
missed America.
You hit the Pentagon ... but you missed America.
You used helpless American bodies to take out other
American bodies,
but like a poor marksman,
you STILL missed America.
Why? Because of something you guys will never
understand.
America isn't about a building or two,
not about financial centers,
not about military centers.
America isn't even about a bunch of bodies.
America is about an IDEA.
An idea that you can go
someplace where you can
earn as much as you can figure out how to,
live for the most part like you envisioned
> living,
and pursue Happiness. (No guarantees that
you'll reach it, but you can sure try!)
Go ahead and whine your terrorist whine and chant
your terrorist litany:
"If you cannot see my point, then feel my pain."
This concept is alien to Americans.
We live in a country where we don't have to see
your point
but you are free to have one.
Don't know where you get the
strange idea that everyone has to agree with you.
There's a spirit that tends to take over people who
come to this country
looking for opportunity,
looking for freedom.
Even if they misuse it.
You guys seem to be incapable of understanding that
we don't live in America;
America lives in US!
American Spirit is what it's called.
And killing a few thousand of us, or a
few million of us, won't change it.
Most of the time, it's a pretty happy-go-lucky kind
of Spirit.
Until we're crossed in a cowardly manner;
Then it becomes an entirely different kind
of Spirit.
Wait until you see what we do with that Spirit this time
Sleep tight, if you can. We're coming.
We would like to thank all of the MyPoints members who have donated Points to the American Red Cross service effort. Your response has been overwhelmingly generous. Over a two-day period the MyPoints member donations to the Red Cross have exceeded $150,000.
As our nation continues to recover from this tragedy, we would like to encourage everyone to donate what he or she can.
To learn more about donating blood, please contact the American Red Cross Blood Bank at 1-800-GIVE-LIFE. If you wish to donate Points, click here for more details.
We continue to offer our prayers and support for our nation. Thank you again for your generosity.
Sincerely,
The Staff of MyPoints
The events of Tuesday September 11, 2001 were and
are hurrendous. It saddens and angers me that someone
would see us as weak because our lives are not
dictated by a controlling government, so they had to
take thousands of innocent lives so they would "Make
the cowardly Americans cower in fear as we cut the
head off the snake." Well I have news for whoever
masterminded this, You have not made us cower oh no.
You have awakened the sleeping giant. Not only in us,
but in Great Britian, Austrailia, Germany, Communist
China, France, Mexico and Communist Cuba just to name a
few. So remember what the bible says "an eye for an eye"
we will give you yours 10 fold and remember, you were
warned.
The passengers aboard United Flight 93 should be
remembered as heroes. No matter what we find out about
the flight. I believe in my heart that they fought
against their hijackers bringing down the plane,
giving their lives to prevent the deaths of thousands
of others. In my eyes these people died proud
patriotic americans.
They were out to
destroy America, but America is not a person or a
place. America is an idea, that freedom and equality
is attainable by anyone who wants it regardless of
their nationality. So we will continue and
GOD BLESS AMERICA !!!
James K. Welch
Proud American
Mesa, Arizona United States of America
In memory of all those who have perished this morning; the passengers and the pilots on the United and AA flights, the workers in the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and all the innocent bystanders. Our prayers go out to the friends and families of the deceased.
The theme of the column--you can't win this "war" in the conventional way with cruise missiles or ground troops (remember Russia fought in Afghanistan for ten years)--and that reality will sooner or later overcome rhetoric. "Reality" begs the question: Why not fight unconventionally?
Unlike previous terrorists fighting for a political cause (e.g., The Weathermen and the Vietnam war, the IRA and a united Ireland, etc.), these terrorists are united, driven, and commit suicide for Allah and Islam, a perverted, debased Islam. Traditional, true Islam as written in the Koran makes clear it is a sin before God to commit suicide and kill innocent people, including hostages.
Why not fight back with unconventional warfare aimed at their perverse, distorted use of true Islam. They use religious disinformation to recruit; we should use any means to sow disunity among these religious fanatics. Not just psychological warfare to explain and instruct potential recruits and supporters about the civilized world as we see it, but encourage the moderate imams of the Islamic faith to inform, instruct, and teach the followers of the Prophet Muhammad what the suicide terrorists are doing to distort and sinfully twist the true meaning of Islam.
If successful over time, this would not stop all terrorist attacks, only the suicide bombers--but we would 5,000 people alive in New York, the Washington area, and Pennsylvania, including highjacked hostages.
This war must be fought on many fronts. As with any ground war, this psychological warfare on their distorted Islam will take years. Part of the reality of this war is that it is, in part, a religious war, whether we want it or not. An evil, twisted, perverse religion is at its heart; we must have the will to drive the stake of Truth through it.
We are keeping this candle burning for all the
people & their families who were in the planes,
buildings and anywhere near the explosions today.
May God be with them and help them through this
terrible time.
God Bless
I asked God for water, he gave me an ocean.
I asked God for a flower, he gave me a garden.
I asked God for a tree, he gave me a forest.
I asked God for a friend, he gave me YOU.
"There is not enough darkness in the world to put out the light of one candle."
This candle was lit on the 11th of September, 2001.
"A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle"
Dear friends:
Feeling a little helpless here, yet bubbling with thoughts and carrying around a head filled with unforgettable images. I thought I best write some if it down. A little therapy for me, but I thought it worth sharing.
Clearly it's been an unbelievable couple days for everyone. " Where were you at 9 am on 9/11/01 ?" will be a question we answer for the rest of our lives.
I was sitting on my balcony having breakfast at about 8:45 on Tuesday morning. A perfect late summer day. I heard an unusually loud airplane roar, and I searched the sky to locate what I assumed would be some sort of military jet ... as no commercial plane would ever fly low enough to make that much noise. To my surprise, it was, in fact, a commercial plane. I thought, "that plane's gonna crash, " but basically dismissed the idea. I went back inside my apartment where CNN was already on my TV. Within moments the news was reported.
I ran out to the intersection in front of my apartment where I knew I would have a clear view of the Towers. The second jet crashed just seconds before I reached the corner of 13th Street and Fifth Avenue. Fifth Avenue has a direct view down to the Towers and was already full of gaping onlookers. From our vantage point we had been unable to see the second airplane and assumed that the second explosion was somehow a result of debris from the first jet.
Not grasping the magnitude of what was happening, I started to walk north on 5th Avenue toward my office on 26th Street. Fifth Avenue and the sidewalks were jammed with people watching this unfold. Several cars were parked with their radios on and crowds of people were gathering around to listen to the news reports. As I moved up the Avenue I learned that there was not one, but two jets and thus, this was clearly a terrorist act and not an accident. It also became clear that many lives were surely lost.
Not knowing quite what to do, I continued on to the office. My parents had already called to check on me, so I called to let them know that I was fine. Just a few moments later I heard a radio report that the south tower had "collapsed." In disbelief, I headed back out onto the street so I could see for myself. It took quite a while to figure out exactly what had happened. I could see one tower and lots of smoke, but I was still convinced that the second tower must have simply been obscured by smoke. Those buildings are truly enormous... I mean ... enormous. The idea of one collapsing is nearly inconceivable. But alas, that is exactly what had happened. And seconds after returning home and turning on my TV, I saw the second tower collapse as well.
After watching some of the preliminary news reports, I decided to head out to the streets. Watching a story on TV that was unfolding just outside my door seemed completely inappropriate. I decided to head towards St. Vincent's Hospital which I had heard would be a primary destination for victims and is just a couple blocks from my house. When I got there they were already setting up for the expected onslaught. The sidewalk was lined with stretchers. Dozens of wheeled desk chairs had been draped with sheets and lined up as additional ways to transport victims. The police were racing to set up crowd control barricades and figuring out how they would handle the traffic in and out of the area. It was truly chaotic for a while. I asked a policeman if there was anything one could do. He said the only thing they needed was blood donations. And then the victims started arriving. By ambulance. In the back of a telephone repair truck. In police cars. In a rental truck. Within an hour, the chaos had been organized. There were dozens for officers directing traffic and pedestrians. Barricades were everywhere. And there were people holding poles with hand written placards ... O+, O-, etc... and long lines of people had already formed behind each one to offer it up.
I planted myself in a spot that I was pretty sure was not in anyone's way and just watched. At one point a man came to me, pointed down the street and asked "What happened to the buildings?" I told him that they had collapsed. He said... "My son worked in that building! What happened to the people? Did they have time to get out?" I told him I hoped so. He raced off.
I headed back home. My cell phone wasn't working and I figured I needed to do some checking in. I was reasonably sure that I didn't know anyone who would have been in the neighborhood of the Towers, and I knew I was in no danger, but realized that that would not be exactly clear to everyone else. I ran into a friend on the way home. He lives in Brooklyn and was not sure how to get back home as we'd heard the subways were not running and we thought the bridges and tunnels had been closed as well. We made a bunch of phone calls and headed out to get something to eat.
At this point the city was filled with dazed, shocked, aimless people. We saw people sitting at a sidewalk cafe eating lunch. It was a truly gorgeous day. Why not? Yet it seemed completely inappropriate somehow. We opted to sit inside, where at least we had a view of a television and could remain connected to the story. But still, the act of eating seemed all wrong.
After lunch, my friend decided to try to walk home to Brooklyn. (It took him several hours, but he made it safely. ) I decided to head toward the Hudson River. I knew I would have a pretty clear view downtown from there. I walked as close to Ground Zero as possible ... though the police kept us many blocks away. I spent a few hours watching the smoke pour out of the hole in the New York skyline. Tower #7 fell while I was there ... sending an enormous plume of smoke into the sky.
Fortunately for us Manhattanites, unfortunately for the Brooklynites, the wind was quite strong that day, and the smoke was all being blown directly east and away from Manhattan.
I eventually headed home. Phone calls to be made and I was desperate to spend some time in front of a television. After watching at home for a while I went a few blocks north to watch TV with a friend. We had heard on the news that after midnight no traffic would be allowed below 14th Street. I headed home about 12:15am. At the corner of 14th Street I was required to present ID as only residents were allowed to cross the street ... even on foot. The police who were manning that post were clearly not from New York City. I told them I lived on 13th Street and they asked if that was nearby. Kind of laughable, but I was crying at the time.
Wednesday was another gloriously beautiful day. The streets were extraordinarily quiet. Few pedestrians and almost no traffic. If there were pedestrians, they were silent, dazed. If there was a vehicle, it was either a police or a military vehicle, and it would pierce the quiet with a siren. Lots of sirens. Lots of sirens. I basically retraced my steps from Tuesday. I stopped at the corner of 13th and 5th where I had watched the fires the day before. The buildings really were missing. The smoke was still billowing. I went to St. Vincent's. The stretchers still lined the streets. The lines of blood donors were still in place. Dozens and dozens of doctors and nurses crowded the sidewalks. But they were waiting for ambulances that never seemed to arrive. I went to the Hudson River. Hundreds of people had now congregated there. The West Side Highway (along the River ) had been established as a primary route into and out of the rescue site. People had come there to cheer the arriving rescue crews and to thank the departing crews. There were hand written signs and banners... THANK YOU! ... YOU'RE ALL HEROES! American flags ... cheering ... clapping ... whistling ... and of course ... tears. In the south bound lane there was a constant stream of dump trucks, earth moving equipment, emergency vehicles, police cars, fire trucks. They were from all over New York, Long Island, New Jersey ... construction companies had sent their entire fleets and crews ... police and fire departments arrived from miles away. In the north bound lane there were buses loaded with dusty and exhausted rescue workers. Dump trucks carried flattened and dust-covered cars, a police car, an ambulance, or tangled masses of steel and concrete. They seemed to drag with them clouds of smoke. And then there was a convoy of at least a dozen refrigerator trucks.
I saw one young man, twenty-something, sitting on the sidewalk, covered in dust, bawling. Hard to imagine what he might have witnessed.
Today was yet another gorgeous day. The wind, however, had shifted. The smoke was now quite apparent and there was a dull gray haze about the city. Yesterday I saw one or two people wearing dust masks. Today they were very common. They come in all shapes and forms, all ugly and a little frightening. The more fashion conscious are doing the bandit thing ... wearing color coordinated bandanas. I've been tempted to wear one as well, but I think I'll simply stay home before I do that. They just seem wrong somehow.
In Union Square Park, a block north of my apartment, dozens of large sheets of paper had been taped to the pavement and people had been encouraged to write their thoughts. Some wrote prayers. Some remembered missing friends. Some blamed Bush. Some blamed Clinton. Some blamed Reagan. Some encouraged us not to place blame. Some threatened retaliation. Some left flowers. Some left candles.
In Washington Square Park, a few blocks south of my apartment, a sort of shrine had been set up against a chain link fence. Pages containing prayers had been attached to the fence along with hundreds of flowers. The sidewalk below was thick with the wax of hundreds of melted candles.
And all over town ... on mail boxes, on phone booths, on telephone poles ... the MISSING posters appeared. The tragedy gained a name and a face ... thousands of names and faces ... today.
An obscure pizza parlor on Sixth Avenue had for some reason been plastered with dozens of these posters and a crowd had gathered to read them. A guitarist had perched himself on a fire hydrant in front of the store and sang softly. The crowd was quiet, reverent. I watched a thirty-something woman pull up on her bicycle. She taped her MISSING poster to the wall, got back on her bike and rode away...crying all the while. A homeless man, a regular in the neighborhood, bellowed, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."
On the West Side Highway the crowds were still cheering. Today, however, they were better prepared. The posters and banners were larger and fancier. And now the crowd had organized with cases of food and bottles of water. They offered food and water to all of the rescue workers who passed by.
There is an odd calm about the city. People are everywhere ... but no one is in a hurry. People seem to be going out of their way to be good to one another, considerate. Everyone has a story to tell. You see a lot of hugging. There are police everywhere. They tell us that the subways are running. I would describe my subway experience as something closer to limping, though I did (eventually) reach my destination.
The grocery store is looking a little slim. With bridges and tunnels opening and closing randomly, deliveries are a mess. I heard one woman complaining to a clerk... "Why isn't there any food in here?" She was the first and only person I wanted to slap today. On a typical day in New York I probably want to slap 6 to 8 people. That's as close as I can come to a silver lining in all of this.
Twenty minutes ago the news reported that ten policemen have been located under the rubble. Now they're telling us that the report is false.
The thunder and lightning has just started rolling in. And so it goes.
I'm fine here. I feel safe. I've not been afraid for even a second. It's just sad. Truly, truly, truly sad.
Hope you and yours are fine and safe. Let's pray that level heads prevail.
With love,
David