FROM ONE TO ELEVEN: The Essence of Grief by Damon DiMarco

Bring them back, God, please bring them back. This is the essence of grief.

Not the secret we shared with a lover, divulged, or the song we composed, which the critics destroyed, or long holes torn in the silk of our souls. It’s the truth that you can’t bring them back.

I will never forget there are men who fight fires. Or faces that smiled in the hallways, the stairs. Or clerks who vowed to remain at their desks until even their bosses get out.

And I want you to bring them back now, God. I want you to please bring them back.

Here are some items we found. Look here. This shoe. This pen. This piece of debris. We cherish these heirlooms, we’ll trade them at once if only you bring them back.

One for our daughters and one for our sons. Our fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters. What is the reason you can’t bring them back?

I keep thinking it could have been any of us. It could have been any of us, and it was, and thank you for sparing me. Thank you for life. But life means less when you treat it like this, so why don’t you bring them back?

They say that no parent should bury a child, but children should get to remember their parents. You made that order, then broke it. I’m angry. Criticize my faith, but I’m pissed. They were innocent people going to work. Meetings and spreadsheets and eyes out the window, daydreaming trips. Anniversaries. Parties. Retirement. Then something happened.

Ten years ago, and who would believe it? It happened to you and it happened to me and something bright fell out of the sky and some ran up while many ran down and we lost them, and maybe we lost ourselves, I don’t know.

I just want them back.

Do you watch us rebuild? We want to rebuild. When something good breaks, you don’t throw it away. You fix it. Make it better and stronger. But why should mosaics go missing a stone? Why should the trees without roots bear fruit, while good trunks topple and caretakers, drunk, play cards with a bee and a fox in the shade, and leave us with nothing but stories?

Take my eyes, my hands, my feet – I don’t need feet, I’ve already stumbled. And yet, move forward we must.

And since we must, I will ask you again to please, God. Bring them back.

Damon DiMarco is the author of Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11 and My Two Chinas: The Memoir of a Chinese Counterrevolutionary with Baiqiao Tang (featuring a foreword by His Holiness the Dalai Lama). His website is www.damondimarco.com.

The Arts and 9/11: "110 Stories"

2,753 empty chairs in Bryant Park

Two nights.

Two plays.

Same subject.

But as is typical in any art form, two completely different approaches.

On Friday night I saw Sarah Tuft’s play, 110 Stories, which benefited the New York Says Thank You Foundation. There were some pretty serious problems at the location that delayed the start of the show for over an hour, but there were also some very stark difference between 110 Stories and The Guys, which I saw Thursday night.

Unlike that play, which had only two characters, 110 Stories presents introduces you to 30 people from all walks of life who were at Ground Zero on that day, or involved in the recovery effort. Also a staged reading, the characters were portrayed by a large group of actors, including Samuel L. Jackson, Kathleen Turner, Tony Shalhoub, Jeremy Piven, Stephen Baldwin, Melissa Leo and Ralph Macchio.

Also unlike The Guys, this play recounts some graphic descriptions about the recovery effort, details that had a very noticeable effect on the woman sitting next to me. She was considerably younger, perhaps in middle school when 9/11 happened. She seemed to be hearing this for the first time.

(You see, that’s a problem when you’ve lived through something like 9/11: you assume everyone knows what you know.)

Each character began with some background: their job, how they found out about the attacks, how they responded. Then it went on to what each witnessed, again, sometimes with shocking detail. But that was absolutely necessary to then explain how they coped and how their lives - and health - were changed forever.

Both plays continued the theme that has played out in the media this week about 9/11. The #1 question seems to be, “where were you when the planes hit?”

But the follow-up is always, “what’s your story about 9/11?” That’s a more expansive question, requiring a more thoughtful response. And everyone has one.

The Guys and 110 Stories are both plays, both staged readings of stories. Telling and sharing 9/11 stories is a way to make sense of something that makes no sense. Sometimes there is no answer to “why?” that is reasonable or acceptable.

But still we tell our stories, share our stories, so that others can begin to understand what it was like.

Coming next:

9/11 – Guest post by Damon DiMarco, author of Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11

9/12 – Ground Zero, 10 Years Later

9/13 – The Buddhists and the Brits: how other cultures and faiths commemorate 9/11

9/14 – The New 9/11 Memorial

The Arts and 9/11: "The Guys"



From the original production



Last night I attended a performance of Anne Nelson’s beautiful play, The Guys, starring Sigourney Weaver and Tom Wopat, benefitting the FDNY Foundation.

A deceptively simple premise based on the playwright’s personal experience, The Guys tells of a meeting between Joan, an editor, and Nick, an FDNY fire captain. Nick lost 8 men on 9/11, and a week later, needs help writing eulogies for the first four services.

The language is real and funny and gut-wrenching, sometimes all at once. Joan gradually draws out stories of each man, as Nick struggles with his grief for his guys, and survivor guilt (he switched shifts with his best friend).

He rails against the hero status each has acquired, arguing that they were just doing “the greatest job in the world.” He hates that they’re being elevated to sainthood when they were just everyday guys.

But little by little, he shares the humanity in each, the “ordinary” in each man who died doing what he loved.

Joan, removed from the events by her Upper West Side life (her father, watching TV in Oklahoma, knew about the attacks before she did), struggles with her own grief and helplessness in those early days. Like millions of others around the country, she wanted to “do” something, no matter how small. But the recovery effort needed ironworkers, not intellectuals. When she was asked by a friend to help Nick, she jumped at the chance.

In describing the effect of 9/11 on New York, she uses the analogy of a pebble dropped in water. “You’re the rock,” she says, and the ripples are waves of grief. The first one, family you lost; then friends, co-workers, the Starbucks barista who “only” lost two people, the guy you had dinner with months before and thought was nice, and so on.

 I remember hearing about the original production of The Guys just a few months after 9/11, and was intrigued by its simplicity. So when I found out I would have a chance to see this production, I was thrilled.

At the reception afterwards, I had a moment to talk to Anne Nelson. When I complimented her on her play, she credited the production. “Yes, but, it was the words, the words were so beautiful,” I insisted.

There are 75 productions of The Guys around the U.S. this week. Find one.

Coming next:

9/10 – 110 Stories

9/11 – Guest post by Damon DiMarco, author of Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11

9/12 – Ground Zero, 10 Years Later

9/13 – The Buddhists and the Brits: how other cultures and faiths commemorate 9/11

9/14 – The New 9/11 Memorial

Tourism and Souvenirs: 9/11-style

9/11 Lottery Balls

This is a picture of my “favorite” 9/11-related offense last year: people dressed as a firefighter and police officer lottery balls. They were on a corner a couple blocks from Ground Zero while the Naming Ceremony was going on, and people were posing for pictures with them.

Any holiday or important date seems to be fair game for exploitation. We see Martin Luther King weekend mattress sales, after all. Ground Zero may be considered hallowed ground, but the event itself is often used in a disrespectful and purely mercenary way.

I’m of two minds here. Many excellent books have been written about the attacks, heroism and recovery efforts: Requiem by Gary Suson, Firehouse by David Halberstam, and of course Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11 by Sunday’s guest blogger, Damon DiMarco come to mind. Should their efforts not earn them money? Should they be expected to give away their profits when writing about a tragedy?

Remember the POW bracelets during the Vietnam War? I had one, though I don’t remember what happened to it or the man whose name was engraved on it. I didn’t think it was tacky at all. But last spring, when I saw similar bracelets being sold across the street from Ground Zero with victims’ names on them, I was offended. The money paid for them would benefit the Visitors Center. But I think I felt they crossed a line, and the line was using individual names.

This morning, Ground Zero was bustling with police, security guards, construction workers and tourists. There was an air of expectation, but not quite excitement. I was interviewed by an Argentine journalist as we stood in front of St. Paul’s, and we agreed the air felt tense. In fact, she felt uneasy with what she considered a lack of (obvious) police presence.

There are tours of the area by a number of groups now, as well as commemorative books being hawked on the corner across from St. Paul’s Chapel. The WTC Visitors Center – as well as any bookstore – sells books, posters, key chains, t-shirts, coloring books, and DVD’s. Tourists posed for pictures with the Freedom Tower in the background. They marveled at the construction progress and stared at police.

A New York health club recently ran afoul of public opinion when they offered a special for first responders (active duty only; no retirees). A commemorative booklet of Bible verses was being given out by a Baptist group from Ohio. The souvenir shop across from Ground Zero sells “Never Forget” t-shirts. The New York Times is promoting their commemorative Sunday issue.

So, is Ground Zero a construction site? A tourist destination? A cemetery?  It’s all of these things and more. It will never be just one thing to everyone.

But it would be nice if we could dispense with the tacky souvenirs.

Coming next:

9/9 – The Guys

9/10 – 110 Stories

9/11 – Guest post by Damon DiMarco, author of Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11

9/12 – Ground Zero, 10 Years Later

9/13 – The Buddhists and the Brits: how other cultures and faiths commemorate 9/11

9/14 – The New 9/11 Memorial

Preserving Stories of 9/11

Stories on the Ofrenda at St. Paul's Chapel

What really separates humans from animals is the ability to tell and record stories. From the beginning of time, men and women have told stories about their lives, their dreams and their beliefs. And they’ve found ways to pass them along: oral storytelling and drawings on the walls of caves; hieroglyphics and illuminated manuscripts; blogs, texts, tweets and books.

There are two organizations that are preserving stories about 9/11.

Story Corps

Since 2003, Story Corps has collected and archived more than 35,000 interviews from more than 70,000 participants. Each conversation is recorded on a free CD to share, and is preserved in the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress. Story Corps is one of the largest oral history projects of its kind, and has a number of special initiatives focusing on specific ethnic groups and historic events. You can listen to interview excerpts from their 9/11 project on their website and on NPR.

Voices of September 11

Voices provides information, resources, support and commemorative events for the 9/11 community. They also provide an opportunity to honor the lives and stories of those who died that day. Their digital archive for each victim of the 9/11 attacks will be part of the new 9/11 Memorial and Museum.

Both of these organizations are doing very serious, professional work to preserve the stories of 9/11, so that the event itself and the people it touched are never forgotten. Both are nonprofit organizations deserving of your support.

A lot of media outlets and websites are asking people to share their stories about “where were you on 9/11?” Those are opportunities as well, although perhaps not as permanent or meaningful.

I’m the family genealogist. I’ve learned over the years that the way in which you preserve the stories isn’t what’s most important. What’s most important is making sure those stories survive for all to share and appreciate.

Coming up next:

9/8 – Tourism and Souvenirs, 9/11-style

9/9 – The Guys

9/10 – 110 Stories

9/11 – Guest post by Damon DiMarco, author of Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11

9/12 – Ground Zero, 10 Years Later

9/13 – The Buddhists and the Brits: how other cultures and faiths commemorate 9/11

9/14 – The New 9/11 Memorial

Friend Grief and the 10th Anniversary of 9/11

And now, as they say, a programming note:

I will be writing from New York City starting September 7^th, on the 10^th anniversary observances of 9/11.

I’m there for two reasons: First, one chapter in my book covers people who lost friends on 9/11; some of those stories also pop up elsewhere in the book. Second, one of my high school classmates died in the South Tower, and I’m going to hear her name read at the Naming Ceremony (hopefully, pronounced correctly this year), and to see her name engraved on the new 9/11 Memorial.

I’ll be looking at the anniversary from a number of different perspectives: how the arts and different faiths are observing it, for example. You can expect me to point out how some are making money off the anniversary, too (my ‘favorite’ last year were the people dressed up like NYPD and FDNY lottery balls).

I also have a terrific guest blogger on September 11, whose website you can check out at Damon DiMarco. He’s written a beautiful prayer that I’m honored to share with all of you.

My blogging schedule is as follows:

9/7 – Preserving Stories

9/8 – Tourism and Souvenirs, 9/11-style

9/9 – The Guys

9/10 – 110 Stories

9/11 – Guest post by Damon DiMarco, author of Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11

9/12 – Ground Zero, 10 Years Later

9/13 – The Buddhists and the Brits: how other cultures and faiths commemorate 9/11

9/14 – The New 9/11 Memorial

There will be lots of pictures, as well as links to organizations doing good work supporting first responders and others whose health was impacted, as well as those preserving our memories. Not surprisingly, there have been some 9/11 charities that turned out to be nothing more than scams or blatant sales promotions. Be assured that the professional fundraiser in me has vetted all the nonprofit organizations that (ever) appear on this site.

So, if you are determined to avoid any and all reminders of 9/11, I understand. I’ll see you back here on the 16^th. I’ll be sharing thoughts on friend grief from unlikely sources, like Winnie the Pooh. Otherwise, join me for the next week or so for a look at how we grieve our friends lost on that clear, blue Tuesday ten years ago.

Labor Day Thoughts on Workplace Grief

People work in offices and construction sites, museums and restaurants. Rarely do they work completely alone. They have co-workers

I remember my Dad’s funeral. He was a deputy sheriff, and some of the other deputies escorted the funeral procession to the cemetery: riding ahead to block intersections, later standing in formation, adding an air of importance that my Dad would’ve loved. It was how they honored them.

It’s hard to grieve when a co-worker has died. The reminders of the loss are there, in front of you sometimes, all day long. They are replaced, because someone has to do their job. You may feel resentful and angry, perhaps even because their death left you with a whole lot more work to do.

We often spend more waking hours at work than with our families, so it’s no wonder our co-workers are so important to us. But today, as we prepare for the last holiday weekend of the summer, let’s take a moment to remember those we’ve lost who sat in the next cubicle, or performed on stage with us. For they were our friends, too.