The Bell of Hope

The Bell of Hope

Tommorow morning, the fifth anniversary of the September 11th attacks I’ll be with a group of New York City religious leaders: 
Buddhists, Christians, Sikhs, Hindus, Muslims, and Jews, who are joining together to ring
a bell at Trinity Wall Street, a few short blocks from Ground Zero. 
Apparently ABC Good Morning America will be airing the 8:35 ceremony. 
It is hard to believe that it has been five years. It was all so surreal.
I remember looking down from 28th Street watching the first bellows of smoke rise up, thinking
that maybe a commuter plane had hit the building, and that a few people
might have died. By the time I got to work, one of the towers had fallen. Then I watched
as every Emergency vehicle in the city headed downtown. When the second tower fell,
I left work and began to walk. Some people were laughing, saying how great it was to get
off of work and how they were going to some bar. Then a guy with a radio told me that more
planes were in the air. Noone knew what to do. I ran past the Empire State Building, looking up, thinking that it might be hit. I ended up going down to Chelsea Piers to volunteer in a makeshift triage. We waited all night, with latex gloves, for the victims. But noone came.

 

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