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

Sledging the Hammer

  "You could have a steam trainIf you'd just lay down your tracks..."---Peter Gabriel's 'Sledgehammer' lyrics. This is not the tune that lay in my mind this morning as I reminisced about yesterday's volunteers to help on trail crew.    However, as I looked up the proper definition of sledging that song popped up. I say sledging, which is my own take on swinging a hammer that we call a "Double Jack". The Single Jack is six pounds. I know that because our regular crew of five including me and one staff supervisor are handling Harriman State Park Trails, and have to carry about four of those, two shaping hammers, along with a hoist, belay bag with heavy equipment, first aid kit, double Jack, three 18lb rock bars, a lopper, three buckets, three eye to eyes, two burlap straps, two green wrapping straps, two pick Mattox, a roe hoe or two, a bar for either the two ton or one ton hoist, the feathers with pegs for splitting rocks that we drill... s

It Follows Me...

One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.