Don't Stress-"Find Strength In What Remains Behind."

Day #20 - Step, step, step... Stress - that energy-draining and emotional wedge that too often stands between a person's goals and their ability to achieve them - is a centerpiece in this Virgin HealthMiles Journey - TishTrek - my 51/51 Challenge. I just find the issues related to this topic harder to talk about.

With reverence, today I'm taking you to a place that I now call the "Post-Traumatic Stress Event" of my generation. To never talk about 9/11 - after I witnessed it first-hand - is like not talking about "that elephant" in the middle of the room.

Ignoring it and the stress-triggers tied to it could defeat my current journey because I - along with lots of other people - live with the flashbacks of this enormity of horror every single day. Nine years later, some of us are doing well; but others are still struggling to regain their footing.

9/11 left a hole in my heart, but fortunately my Mom had always taught me that the power of my keyboard or pen can help me "find strength in what remains behind." I did not fully comprehend the awesome power of my Mother's message and encouragement until September 12th, 2001.

On Tuesday, September 11th, I wrote: Our View from NY Harbor

This morning 8:30 a.m., we boarded a Seasteak America Inc. Ferry in the Atlantic Highlands and then headed for New York at exactly 8:45. It was a clear day. We had overslept. As we watched out the window, we saw what looked like smoke billowing from the top of the World Trade Center. A fellow commuter called his wife. She confirmed there was a fire.

Moments later, over a ferry radio system the news arrived that - in fact - a hijacked plane had hit the World Trade Center. There was stunned silence while no one could remove their eyes from this view in the horizon as this terrifying history played out...

Our ferry continued under the Verrazano Bridge. As we continued to watch and as we drew closer to the Statue of Liberty, suddenly there was a fireball that we thought was bringing down an entire side of the WTC. A loud and breathtaking gasp filled the air. Whether it was our focus on the flames engulfing the first building or a matter of our view, none of us saw a plane coming... Moments later more radio communication at sea informed us that a second plane had actually hit the second tower. Fear and silence filled the air...

After being informed that Downtown Manhattan, the New York Stock Exchange, and all associated buildings were closing and being evacuated - we were told that the air around Manhattan had been "sanitized," which meant it had become a no-fly zone. Any plane trying to fly in that space would be shot down. Our eyes and our collective fear scanned the skyline and silently we prayed that all other landmarks would be protected, and that we - feeling somehow vulnerable in the middle of this water - would be safe too.

The crew of the Seastreak informed us that we were going to Pier 11 near South Street Seaport to help as many people as possible who were attempting to leave the city. There were thousands of people trying to get back to NJ. We could only take a couple hundred. We could only hope that more ferries would arrive there soon. We watched swarms of people begin their trek northbound towards the Brooklyn Bridge as they tried to beat the unknowns and the aftershock of what was to come.

As we pulled away from the dock, we looked up to the sky from the East River and watched the smoke pour over Wall Street from atop the Woolworth Building, the AIG building, and JP Morgan Chase. It was not like anything we had ever seen. Two of the largest buildings the world had ever known were spewing pieces from their silver shells which were brilliantly highlighted by the sun as they rained down on the East River, the Hudson River, and NY Harbor... This sad, reflective and horrifying moment reminded us that each reflection in the sky somehow symbolized a human life that wasn't returning home today.

Then came the news that our Pentagon had been hit... Our confusion and sadness heightened. The mushroom cloud that followed after these magnificent and incredible structures succumbed to the terrors of our society made us all realize that this was war.

A few hundred passengers on a simple commuter ferry alarmed, dazed and stunned, some with tears streaming, some with more fear than others - all of us frozen and bound together by a silence louder than any voice we had ever heard. It was the voice of "terrorism." - Tish Ferguson, 9/11/01 - 11 a.m. (portions of this piece were published in The Asbury Park Press & The Ocean Star, NJ - Sept., 2001)

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Later that day, my 8 year old son Scott got off his school bus in Pt. Pleasant, NJ and ran into my arms as I sat on the front steps of our home with my friend, Cheryl.

"Mommy! he yelled out. "Did you hear what happened today?"

"James said a giant plane flew into a big building in New York City!"

I threw my arms around him and hugged him as if it were the day he was born, and answered, "Yes, Honey. We heard about it. And Mommy loves you to the moon and back!"


Best regards,
Everybody's Cousin Tish
Score: 7/51

Quote of the Day:
"What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind"
— William Wordsworth, (Intimations of Immortality)