Skip to main content

Nearly Twenty Years… Have Passed

 


Nearly Twenty Years… Have Passed

I went down there twelve days later. To New York City that is. I’m not a city girl. In fact, I knew nothing about New York City, that just lay within forty minutes of my home in New Jersey.  Yet, my heart was ripping, I had been a Marine many years before. I’m used to helping people. That at the time up until earlier of 2021, was part of my business/job. So, I knew I could somehow help.

I felt guilty that I was living, and people were dying. And we were suddenly at war, as my husband and I were ready to adopt our first child. I prayed to receive the call after trying to connect to volunteering at ground zero. The call came from a fellow therapist, out of the blue. I was game.

I told my husband at the time, an inner-city high school math teacher in New Jersey that I needed to volunteer on the weekends at the World Trade Center sites. He understood. He knew how I felt. He thought I’d re-up. But I knew I was dedicated to him as well to have a family. As we’d promised one another. I was torn. So, I went and volunteered what little I could do, for such a horrendous situation.

As crazy as this sounds, I watch and look over 9/11 stuff near and on and just after the anniversary of that day and the surrounding days every year since. And sometimes, when I come across a story I read it or watch it. The other night as I awaited my oldest to arrive home from playing miniature golf and being with a best friend three doors over, I finished watching “World Trade Center” on Netflix. It showed me what I’d wondered about over the now nearly twenty years since that day.

So, I’m writing to you today, as I hope no one who has survived as those of you who were trying to save lives should ever feel guilty about your survivals. You should never feel that what you did didn’t matter. It mattered. I’m letting you know from the bottom of my heart, your attempts/efforts and your survivals mattered and matter to this very day. And will always matter. ---Jody-Lynn Reicher

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when

Maybe It's About Love

Maybe I just don't get it... "...My father sits at night with no lights on..."---Carly Simon  In my male-dominant mind. Dr. Suess-ish sing-songy "...go go go go on an adventure..." (George Santos' escapades gave me permission to use "ish".) I'd been accused of not being detailed enough in my writing. as my writer friend, Caytha put it to me now near twenty years ago. I knew she was correct. It's gotten a lot better, a whole bunch better. But the writing of sex scenes... Well... I'll need Caytha for that.  "...his cigarette glows in the dark..."---Carly Simon  Even my husband Norman could have written the simple sex scenes better than I, that I currently need in my script. And he was not a writer, but a math oriented thinker. Ala carte he was a nurturing romantic. And a sort of romantic Humphrey Bogart to his Ingrid. Otherwise, I won't go into details there. I'll let the mature audiences use their imagination. I am so

Birth is a Lottery

  Yes, this is about Taylor Swift and Love. I’ve had this discussion in depth nearly twenty years ago with a client. We were discussing being grateful for landing where we had in the years we were born.  As to now, after that conversation, my attitude still holds. You gotta kind of be happy for other people in some way, no matter where you came from. It’s like good sportsman-like conduct. You lose, you shake hands, hug, whatever. That is how I’ve handled it 99% of the time, win or lose. I remember one time, one moment in my life I didn’t do that. And I still stand by my not doing so that evening after a competition. Otherwise, every other competitor deserved my congrats.  My fight coach said that I was unusual (2013) because after losing a fight, I act as though I’ve won. To me, it was that I was just so happy to be able to compete. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. I’ll say that again. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. In softball, when I was aged nine (1971), we lost all our games as the &qu