Yesterday

(12/09/08)

I woke up early. It felt like just another day, but a day in which things would be different. I said a prayer for all those that would need help today, it's a day where old wounds are re-opened yet more people are conscious today than ever. I went for a run, running because it feels good, it wakes me up, and I know on a day like today I need to feel my strength. The mood in Harlem is one of business as usual. Children chattering in Spanish, the neighbourhood men admiring the passing ladies, and queuing to buy corn on the cob from a street vendor for breakfast. And yet 30 minutes later, when I emerge from the 6 train in the heart of the Financial District the mood has completely changed. You can feel it.

New York City has been likened to the Rome of the 21st century - the centre of the world, and nowhere is more cut throat & competitive in this hub than Wall Street. People literally & metaphorically trampling all over each other to get to where they want to be, but this morning is different. The mood is sombre, the streets are cordoned off, there's very little room on the sidewalk. The trademark jostling & rudeness are suspicious in their absence. A couple of teenage girls start to make a fuss, that they're going to be late for class & how ridiculous that they can't use their normal route, and suddenly the tough New Yorker faces are back, albeit briefly, how DARE these girls say that. Don't they realise what the date is?

I get to an intersection & ask a woman in uniform about where I need to go and she asks me such a simple question, but a question that brings the reality of the situation crashing home: "Am I family?". "No" I mumble, bowing my head "just here to pay my respects" & she points me off in the direction I need to go in, whilst a few beautifully dignified people slip under the cordon, a rose or an understated photograph in their hands, and I know they've answered "Yes" to that question. I know no matter what I've been though or will go through in my life, I will never know how those people who answered that question differently to me will be feeling.

At 8.46 the church bells start tolling, and the crowd falls silent. We're all remembering where we were, those images we all saw, and we can see the gap in the world where all that pain occurred, and yet it still doesn't feel real. Barack Obama & John McCain appear together, a gesture of solidarity & respect, and yet very few people are gawping to look, it doesn't feel appropriate, and we all file away in different directions. There are snipers on the rooftops, which feels very surreal to me, and then it dawns - these images are real, I'm not watching a film. This would be a terrorist's dream to assassinate the two presidential candidates on the 7th anniversary. A feeling of sickness starts to pervade my body. And yet whenever I'm feeling disheartened by the world, events always conspire to give me hope, and this day is no exception.

I walk through a plaza where religions of all denominations are handing out paraphernalia - all promoting peace & tolerance in these difficult times. Amid the throng one petite lady stands out. She is standing silently, head bowed & the sign next to her indicates her intention. She is bowing for peace. Bowing in public to acknowledge the inherent impulse within us all to hurt each other, and how with respect & self-discipline we can rise above this & achieve peace. Her message - so powerful and yet so simple in delivery, is crystal clear. As she raises her head slightly I make eye contact with her & mouth "thank you". Both of our eyes fill with tears & I know at that point we have changed each other's lives ever so slightly.

The rest of the daylight hours I fill with visiting churches & monuments to somehow try to understand some of what had happened for myself. The spirit & resilience that empowers this great city seems stronger than ever, and the clear message behind it all is that the terrorists have achieved the exact opposite of their goal, they have united, not divided the people.

As daylight begins to fade I make my way to the Hudson River. The waterline seems higher than ever, and I feel like I have filled it myself with all the tears I have shed. The New York Buddhist Church have organised a floating lantern ceremony in commemoration & as we paint our lanterns & attempt some pidgin-Japanese a wind of peace seems to blow across the water. I chat away to a retired New Yorker who tells me all about his personal experience of Fall 2001. We discuss everything from where to get a good cup of tea to photographic filters, united in our feeling of love for this strange & unique city. The multi-faith service is just what was needed & after a young girl in a head-scarf reads a Muslim prayer about peace we all clap loudly, showing her that we're not all naive, and we don't all believe the media stereotyping, scapegoating her religion for the atrocities of a few misguided souls.

The lanterns are released out into the water as darkness falls. Two beams of beautiful light shine into the air from Ground Zero. Those towers may not be physically there any longer, but in our hearts they're stronger than ever. I stroll gently through the streets uptown to see the Empire State Building lit patriotically in Red White & Blue, before collapsing exhaustedly onto the subway home, forever a changed person after this day.