I'm embarrassed to admit it's been some time since I've written here. Not only has my life become significantly busier, but I've been stalled out on the piece below. I'd started it in the wake of Osama bin-Laden's death, as a comprehensive memoir of my experiences of that day, and the lessons I'd learned from being in New York when the towers fell. It's a piece that proved a little too hard to write comfortably, and I have a lot of ambivalence still about sharing everything I felt on that day. I did learn several important lessons, though, three of which I've decided to share.
*
Never Lose Faith in Humanity: As the towers fell, and before anyone knew just what was needed in terms of medical resources, lines had already begun to form at all of Manhattan's hospitals. The people in these lines were there to give blood, and there were so many at St. Vincent's on 12th Street that the line wrapped all the way around the block and on to the next. There was a sort of peace to the line, as we knew that we were doing the best thing possible in the wake of a tragedy whose scope wasn't yet known.
What struck me, though, wasn't just the line of blood donors. There were also people moving up and down the line, handing out water, juice, and bagels. These amazing people weren't from the hospital; they were there on their own, helping people keep their energy up, with refreshments both donated by local businesses, or paid for out-of-pocket.
This outpouring of spontaneous support, and the solidarity of people wanting to help their neighbors, as well as strangers, really spoke to me. In those early hours of the day, no one had put out a call for blood or nutritional support; people came together individually, and with the kindest and most generous of motives. I realized then, that even as it only took a handful of evil men to cause such destruction, that at its core, humanity is ultimately kind and supportive, that we are capable of tremendous acts of kindness towards each other, and that this truth is one that is all too often forgotten. Please, don't forget.
*
Live!: Sadly, St. Vincent's didn't have the manpower or supplies to handle the crowds that wanted to donate blood, so we were given the names and addresses of other hospitals in the city that might be able to take our blood. As I headed uptown to St. Clare's, the streets were virtually empty; Manhattan had become almost a ghost town. By this point, the military had sent fighters to patrol the skies above Manhattan, and every time one flew far overhead, anyone who was out in the street stopped moving and listened carefully, everyone with the same look on their faces. It was a look of combined fear and sickness, a look of "oh, God, no, what now?"
Even now, some ten years later, I remember that feeling, and it brings back a deep, visceral response. At the time, I was terrified; there was no accurate news at that point, no one knew exactly what was happening. There had been rumors of as many as eight hijacked planes wreaking havoc across the country, and cell phone service was almost nonexistent, as the most powerful signal towers in the city had been destroyed. Walking uptown, I kept expecting the other shoe to drop, for some additional awful event that would make things so much worse, and then 'it' came to me, an epiphany that took away all that fear.
I suddenly understood that there's only so much within my control, and that if there are terrorists or anyone else who wants me dead, there's very little I can do to stop them. With that reminder of my mortality and the fragility of my existence, I realized that there was no sense in living in fear, that I should focus on what I could control, and not worry about the rest. It's been a hard lesson to learn, and it's one that I haven't always been good at keeping close to my heart, but it's there, and it's something I try to practice as often as possible.
*
Smile!: Having made it to St. Clare's, the small knot of us that had made it uptown were disappointed once again as that hospital's representative told us that they couldn't take our blood, either. Feeling thoroughly unhelpful and walking back downtown on Madison Ave., I saw a young woman walking towards me. She looked vaguely familiar, and as I looked at her, she flashed me the most beautiful smile. It was bright, friendly, and warm, and I was floored. I asked her, "Do I know you?" She smiled again, and before continuing on her way simply said, "No, but you looked like you needed a smile."
Wow. I can't begin to describe how that affected me, but I had to take a moment to sit down and think about what had just happened. In the wake of feeling scared and useless, a simple smile from a stranger brought a lightness into my day that was more powerful and surprising than anything I could have imagined.
The lesson I took from this is the easiest of the three that I've described, and perhaps the most important. In my mind, it's the one that ties the other two lessons neatly together, and, simply put, the lesson is to smile. Smile at yourself in the mirror, smile at your friends, smile at strangers. Smile because it's a beautiful day, or because it's raining. Smile because of its power to bring happiness to someone else. Smile because you're here.
