Finding a blessing inside the curse...

By Audrey Shore
JTS / Columbia

"Not a New Yorker" is a succinct, accurate way of describing me, a Boston-suburbanite stranded in Harlem to pursue two degrees in the joint program with the Jewish Theological Seminary and Columbia University. My hatred for "the city that never sleeps" stems from my extreme distaste for its gross and impersonal anonymity. After spending a year in Israel, mainly in Jerusalem, and the 18 before it in Boston, I wasn't ready to move to "the Big Apple." New Yorkers seem more concerned with their Kate Spade bags and their tax brackets than with each other.

Having shown you my honest, cynical self, I am prepared to morph into your daytime-talk-show-guest-level-mushy-woman and sincerely sing the praises of New Yorkers' responses to the WTC disaster.

I don't seem to care what the numeric date is, unless it's my birthday. For some reason, however, on September 11 -- aka 911 -- I got a bit weirded out. My alarm went off at 9:15 am so I'd have time to shower before my first class.

When the talking on the radio replaced the normal "blazin' hip hop and R&B" I thought it was odd, but I was too overtired to listen. On my way out of the building at around 10 am, the security guard accosted me, demanding to see my key and identification. (And this was to get OUT of MY building!) When I looked more dazed and confused than usual, she told me what had happened, saying a plane had crashed into the WTC. Of course I was concerned, but I figured that it had been an accident and that everyone was upset. Terrorism never entered into my mind.

Not here. Not in America.

I walked outside, headed to class, and was shocked to see people waiting in line to use a pay phone on the corner of Amsterdam and 120th. People were everywhere, crying and holding each other, walking in the street. And the sirens... it seemed like ambulances and fire engines were the only vehicles on the road. Then someone was screaming about it and then people who had earlier classes were running back to the dorm, crying and saying that the world is ending. I got the full story, had a dead cell phone in my backpack, and lit up the first of many Camel Lights as I realized that the apocalypse was starting in lower Manhattan.

Of course, much like the rest of the media-obsessed nation, I turned to any channel (except the Food Network, which maintained normal coverage throughout, apparently the Iron Chef is more informed than CNN) and sat engrossed. My dorm was put on lockdown and we all sat in the basement. My mind drifted to my freshman year in Israel, when we were sometimes moved from our rooms on a kibbutz in the Negev into the bomb shelter... scary...

Hour after hour, the stories poured in. My RA had a friend who was in the first tower and he had called his parents only moments before the building collapsed, professing his love and saying what was inevitable: that he would soon be dead. Firefighters were missing left and right. The one thing that kept appearing, aside from the phenomenal video of the plane hitting the second tower, was the presence of all these long-dormant emotions, resonating for the first time within Americans, left and right.

NYC's "melting pot" now consists of emotions as well as nationalities; in addition to more diversity than a United Nations conference, "ground zero" is being supplied, supported and prayed for by everyone, each borough more than the last. Fire stations, police cars and all official buildings have been decked out with flowers and handmade cards, proclaiming thanks for the effort and love, from city dwellers as young as toddlers. The biggest paradox seems to be the emotional frenzy that people are tangled in -- zealous patriotism, adrenaline-fueled hope, and a bloodthirst for vengeance are all running rampant in the city.

As people everywhere deal with the new world that emerged in the aftermath of September 11, we at KOACH invite you to share with us your feelings, thoughts, and ideas. Please email us so we can work through the feelings of loss, and start the healing process. We offer our most sincere thanks and appreciation to those worldwide who have assisted in the rescue and rebuilding process... as well as our most heartfelt sympathies to those who have suffered a loss of a loved one in this impossible-to-figure-out time.