Friday, September 10, 2010
My goodness, what is there left to say when it has all been said, and much better than I could say it? When we were in New York, my daughter and I visited the World Trade Centers, and it's difficult to describe how gigantic they were. They were massive. And the streets all around that area are so narrow -- barely wider than the ox trails they were originally when Manhattan was first a Dutch colony. So, all I could think when the towers fell was , "Where on earth is all that material going to go?" There was nowhere for it to go except out. Everything ~~ everything ~~ was pulverized into powder that floated everywhere. Of a total of 2,976 people who died, only 300 bodies were recovered. That leaves 2,676 people who were part of the debris scattered literally for miles. Even though it has been nine years, I still feel shock and horror when I think about it. For 2,676 people, Lower Manhattan is their final resting place, and yet there is no memorial to them, not even a slab of cement with their names on it. They were just regular folks who had breakfast one morning, said goodbye to their families, and went to work...
"May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."