On 9/11, I was in a morning art class at the community college where I was teaching math in NJ about 40 miles southwest of NYC. I was late because of traffic and when I entered class my main concern was ‘would the professor approve of my humble drawing of garlic in a basket?’ I hate being late and I was coaxed by a young classmate, Chico, to put my drawing up with those of my classmates. I did and I soon realize that my pencil drawing was much too light. One of my classmates was a student in my Algebra class and I can remember defending him after the professor attacked his work which was quite formal because of his Spanish/Italian background. The professor had just returned from sabbatical and I found him quite grumpy, so I knew it was going to be a rough semester. Near the end of class, another professor, came into the class to tell us news. While I was in disbelief. I remembering feeling the way I did when I was a junior in high school and heard the news that JFK was killed so many years before. One of the offices had a TV and I realized that it was true about the planes-World Trade Center-the Pentagon-and PA. My only sister took the PATH train to the World Trade Center and my thoughts were for her safety. The college was evacuated quickly using both exits and entrances. Do I go to church, the bank, the grocery store or to my mother’s house in Jersey City just across the Hudson River from NYC? I wound up doing the first three and calling my mother. Before I went to church, I played my messages. My daughter called from Portland, Oregon and said that the family had received a phone call from my sister but the details were sketchy. It was easier to call cross country than within the NY/NJ metro area. After church-first time I even thought about the significance of the date “9/11”, I tried to donate blood in New Brunswick but many Rutgers University students arrived before me. It was a very long day and I was not able to reach my sister until 8 pm. She had to walk very far (she was grateful for those along the way to the New Yorkers who offered water or the use of their bathrooms) to a ferry, then a bus, them her train and finally to her home. I finally reached her at 8 pm. Overwhelmed with sadness but inspired by bravery, overwhelmed by the darkness but lifted by hope. Many people will never be the same and they just try to get by each day. Prayers and positive thought go to my sister today.
Posted on: Thu, 11 Sep 2014 14:32:30 +0000
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