September Mourning

All we can do is gather information and watch and listen in disbelief. Everyone I talk to, it's the same thing: We just keep telling stories about people we know, and people we don't.

There is shock and bewilderment, worry over friends and relatives, and fear about the future. I can't imagine the devastation, the huge loss of lives, the horror of this tragedy. I feel glad I'm far away, and yet wish I was there – the place I call home – helping in some way. As so many, I feel guilty that my life was spared.

I feel like I can't even think; I can't do anything but listen to the reactions and absorb the pictures, yearning for more accounts, to know what and why. This craving for knowledge is a way of being connected and of making sense of something that seems unthinkable.

It's the stories that keep us together. It's our way of reaching out and holding hands in the dark. We share the tales of lifesaving coincidence and rescues and devastation and, "Did you hear...?" Sharing is our way of caring when we feel hopeless and helpless, when we have the desire to do something, anything, but can't. However, there does seem to be one thing we can do: remind each other that we are alive. . .

Keep telling stories.

I will stay in contact with my friends and family that are so very far away from me. We will remind ourselves of incidents, talk about those we know and those affected. The stories will bond us, will be our hope for the future.

Tricia Gilbert
Managing Editor, E2K

Next issue: October 15, 2001