Something Happened

I returned back to my town, and remained for the day at headquarters. We all seemed lost a bit, not completely comprehending what happened. We traded some stories of the small injuries, the trip into downtown. Some began assembling for volunteer crews into NYC for the overnight. They would end up parked on the FDR drive and remain empty and unused for several days. Waiting. No injured to treat, none to transport to the hospital ERs that also waited, stretchers ready, treatment rooms lit and stocked. The only survivors it seemed were those who posted the notices on walls, mailboxes, construction sites, who sat at phones, hands clasped, at tables, in driveways on chairs, looking for those missing, waiting for people to call, to come home. Waiting.

Several days later, I had to head into NYC for an appointment. I was early so stopped in at a coffee shop on my way out of Penn Station. While I sipped my coffee, a plane flew overhead. An ordinary plane, on an ordinary day. But everything, everyone, every sound, in that cafe, suddenly stopped. Silence. Waiting. As we listened to the plane fade away….

- From recollection of what happened that day and later at View From the Ledge.