Letters

I am a psychologist who volunteered with the Red Cross to work at Ground Zero for several weeks after the 9/11 attack. I was given the responsibility of being available for informal counseling sessions with anyone who came into the comfort centers that were set up for food and rest.

While I have many memories of that experience which will stay with me forever, the most poignant one involved the family of one of the individuals who died when the Twin Towers collapsed.

The city had just begun allowing families of the deceased to visit the site of the fallen towers with a police escort. I was approached by a police officer one evening and asked if I could speak to some family members who were very upset.

Two sisters who lost their brother had come from Hawaii with their husbands. One had her two grown children with her; the other was there with her two smaller children. They explained that they had brought a lei of fresh flowers from Hawaii to place on the site. When one of the workers saw the lei, he figured out a way to hoist it onto the top of one of the huge fallen beams.

He spent a long time assuring that it was secure, and the family was both moved by the sight of the beautiful wreath on top of the rubble that had taken their beloved brother’s life, but also the effort that this exhausted worker had so conscientiously made to give them this image to remember.

I ushered the family to one of the communal tables for dinner, and they were immediately besieged by volunteers serving them delicious food and giving candy and gifts to the children. They were overwhelmed by the generosity and attention by the numbers of firefighters, police, officers and volunteers who approached them offering their condolences.

There were lots of tears and hugs, especially as we read the letters and cards sent by schoolchildren that were scattered all over the dining tables and taped to the walls. One of the sisters turned to me with tears in her eyes to thank me. She said that she would’ve never imagined this kind of reception.

I said, “But don’t you understand, everyone here is grieving for your brother. I am, that worker who placed the lei on the beam, everyone — we are all grieving for him. That is in large part why we are here: to grieve together.”

So on this day, so many years later, I hope that family continues to feel the attention and affection from those, like myself, who still remember and, in some small way, in their own personal way, still grieve.

Paula Angelone, Ph.D.

Southampton Village