9/11 Touched By So Many But Shared By So Few
Posted: Wednesday, September 07, 2011
by Gregory Wight
9/11 is a day that became historical and will be in textbooks forever. It is a day of infamy that is shared by so few but touched by so many.
Remembering that day is only possible for those who lived through the experience and shared in the grief of the event. Many of us were either at home or at work, and found out about it on the television, radio, from a fellow worker, an announcement, or from a family member.
I remembering dialing her home phone number and getting no response. It was so eerie and unreal. I was disconnected and removed. In a surreal world that no longer made any sense.
I watched the events unfold until I finally had to go to work. It was a sad day for everyone, and every conversation centered upon the tragedy. Every break time I tried to call my mother’s home without any success.
In the days that followed I called the Manhattan Police, and waited an eternity until I finally spoke to an officer. All that he could do is take my mother’s name and address, promising to send someone to check on her when they had the manpower. I knew from the phone call that they were all in shock and deluged with calls and pleas from others like me. It was a sad time.
On 9/14 I finally received a call from my mother. It was a time of elation, but all I could do was admonish her for not calling me and letting me know that she was alright.
She did not go to work on that terrible day. She had gone with some friends somewhere and was saved from the tragedy, but many of her friends and people that she worked with were not so lucky, some were injured, and some were killed.
After I hung up the phone I wondered why I had wasted time scolding her and why I was upset with her. I should have been jumping for joy and happy, but I was not.
Memories flooded my thoughts and glimpses of some of the people that I had once known, or met, were all that I could see.
My mother had named those that we both knew that had died, and those that had suffered injuries.
From that day on I called my mother more frequently and I always remembered to tell her how much I loved her and appreciated everything that she had done for me and for others.
My mother passed away in 2003, and there were many New York City policemen, firefighters, and other 9/11 volunteers in attendance. She had worked tirelessly helping victims of the 9/11 tragedy, and many people showed their kindness and appreciation by attending her funeral, and offering their condolences.
My mother was a giver, and she always gave her help and her kindness to those in need. She would want me to be writing about all of the 9/11 volunteers and not just her, because that is the kind of person she was.
My memory of 9/11 will always include my mother and be about her and the volunteers, rather than where I was or what I was doing at the moment that it happened. 9/11 touched many lives, but was shared by only a few.
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