My first visit to the vicinity of Ground Zero in New York City was in December 2001. Getting a look from atop the Empire State Building wasn’t enough for me. Frustrated at not getting up close, my dear friend Helen and I, both employees of a United Express carrier at FSD (Sioux Falls, SD) flew to NYC in February 2002.
We stayed at the Cosmopolitan Hotel, just a few blocks from Ground Zero. We wandered uncertainly toward the site, unsure of how to access what we’d been told was a place especially for airline employees to view the horrific wreckage. We saw a police car and decided to ask for help. A young NYPD officer gave us directions. We thanked him and headed out. Then we heard a voice. “Ladies, ladies, wait.”
We turned to see the young police officer coming toward us. He asked if we’d like a guided tour around Ground Zero. Of course we agreed. He took us around the backside of the wreckage, giving us details as we went. We saw the Ground Zero Cross up close and personal. At one point some workers said hey you can’t go there and the police officer told them it was all right, we were with him.
He took us to the private viewing area for the families of the passengers and flight crews, overlooking the site. We sat for a while, silent, tears streaming down our faces. Words were utterly inadequate to express our emotions.
Our young NYPD officer shared lots of information, mentioning that he was in Spain during the attacks but flew home right away. We listened, overwhelmed by the things we were seeing. At some point in our tour, we saw a covered gurney being transported out of the rubble. He said, “Oh, that’s officer so-and-so.” He mentioned a name, which neither of us remembered later.
When we got back to his car, he took both our hands in his and said, “Ladies, I hope this helped.” We thanked him profusely and turned to head back to our hotel. We both stopped and looked back one final time and stopped short, stunned. He was gone, as though he’d never been there.
Back at our hotel we sat facing each other, sharing a bottle of wine, mentally and emotionally drained, alternately crying and talking. We enjoyed the rest of our trip, finding cool delis, eating New York pizza and sampling authentic Cannoli in Little Italy. I bought a scarf from a street vendor who got impatient with my browsing and handed me a scarf. They’re all the same – just take one! Oh God how I love those people!
On the last evening of our trip we were drawn back to as close as we could get to Ground Zero. We encountered another NYPD officer, a woman, who chatted with us. We saw another covered gurney being removed from the ruins and she said, “I’m here to escort officer so-and-so.” Again, later we couldn’t recall the name.
In retrospect, thinking about our trip, we began to realize that what we’d experienced was somehow different. We started questioning what had happened. How did either our young police officer or the lady officer know the names of the remains of the people beneath the gurneys? How did our young officer fly home? As airline employees we knew that all the flights were grounded for days. How did he disappear into, literally thin air, seconds after we left him?
Nothing added up…until it dawned on us that we’d been privileged to meet two angels. You may think I’m crazy, or deluded, or whatever, but there are too many discrepancies with no “earthly” explanation.
The ROWAN MILANI CHRONICLES 