Then There Was You(74)

I tilted my head, surprised by the man’s reply. “Apparently, he knew who you were,” I whispered as Chris and I walked away.

Chris shrugged, pulling my arm through his. “I think he’s sitting on my face.” He nodded somewhat humorously back at the old man, and I noticed a pile of newspapers underneath him. “By the way, his name is Joe Mathers. He was in the 82nd Airborne during Vietnam. It’s a shame when a man serves his country and fights in a war… then ends like society’s garbage on the streets.” Chris shook his head sadly, disgusted by the travesty.

“A real shame,” I agreed.





My first time on a subway was fairly uneventful and anticlimactic. Chris had reserved tickets for us to view the World Trade Center Memorial. Just thinking about that day in history gave me chills.

“I was in ninth grade,” Chris said as we walked down the sidewalk. “I remember I was sitting in social studies in Mrs. Pardue’s class. She used to let us listen to the radio if we worked silently. We all groaned when our favorite song got interrupted by a news flash… that is, until we heard the news. Mrs. Pardue turned on the television and we all watched in horror when the first tower fell…”

I remembered everything about that day. It still haunted me. “Wow, you make me feel old. Ninth grade? I remember it like it was yesterday too, but I was in college. I was sitting in the student union   with some friends when I heard the news. I skipped my next class and went home to my apartment where I spent the rest of the day watching the news coverage. I used a whole box of tissues, crying with my roommates.”

As we were walking toward the memorial, I heard the water before I saw it. The enormous fountains were a beautiful tribute to all of those who lost their lives during the tragedy of 9/11. It was a somber moment for both of us. Realizing the significance of it, Chris reached out, sliding his hand down my arm and clasping my fingers with mine. Standing hand in hand, we watched the water plummet into the fountain. We walked the circumference of the memorial, reading names and watching the crowd. Some people took pictures while others just stood and cried. One man knelt in prayer. Despite the loud, raucous noise of the water, it was eerily quiet around the fountains. Onlookers were silently reflecting that day or the memory of their loved ones. It was an experience I knew I would never forget.

Chris took a deep breath. “It’s sad,” he whispered. “So many people kissed their loved ones goodbye that day and never saw them again. I always think about the couples who might have been fighting that morning. Maybe they said hurtful things, or asked for a divorce, but didn’t really mean it. Or, what about the ones who didn’t even say goodbye at all…”

I nodded. “Or the ones who made their last phone call while they were trapped in the building.” My lip quivered, and I shivered at the thought of last goodbyes, frantic escapes, or finally realizing they weren’t going to make it out. What was going through their heads at that final moment? I just couldn’t shake it. “Can you imagine?”

Chris instinctively wrapped his arm around me. “No. No, I can’t,” he said softly.

We spent a few extra minutes soaking in the beauty, sadness, loneliness, and peace of this place. Looking up, I imagined what it would look like if the buildings still existed. Too many lives were lost that day. You don’t realize the sheer impact of it until you’ve seen the thousands of engraved names on the stone lining the fountain. That’s when it really hits home.

I didn’t want to cry, or interrupt this beautiful day with my emotions, but I couldn’t stop the silent tears that slid down my cheeks as Chris hugged me close against him. I laid my head against his chest and wept not only for those who lost their lives, but for those who were left behind. For the women who brought flowers and laid them on the ground under their sons’ names. For the men who knelt in prayer beneath their wives’ names. For the firefighters who lost their brothers. For all the tears that were being shed around me because they were missing someone. For all of those who didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.

Chris cradled my head against his chest. “You’re a beautiful person, Salem,” he said with conviction, “inside and out.” His voice wavered with suppressed emotion.

I looked up at him, seeing compassion and empathy in his eyes. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Cupping my cheeks, he gently wiped my tears away with his thumbs. He kissed me softly on the forehead and whispered, “I knew it was something we shouldn’t miss while we were here.”