We awoke to the sound of worried voices over the radio, a striking change from the usual clamor of classic rock and radio DJs that live in our alarm clock. In a hazy eyed stupor the words began to take form in our foggy brains. That's how we found out the towers had been hit. It was like waking up to the end of the world. Scared voices on the radio, desperately trying to make sense of the madness that was taking place just a scant 55 miles from our doorstep.
It wasn't long before my Mom started yelling down the basement stairs. She was frantically trying to collect news of family and freinds in New York, two of which worked in the Trade Center, but phone service was knocked out, and the cell phone traffic was overloaded. The only thing to do was wait. Wait, and watch the terrifying pictures on our television. Wait, and wake with fresh horror as reports came in that the first plane was not alone. Wait, and pray that the nightmare unfolding before us would somehow turn out to be less awful than it seemed.
As the day wore on we were able to contact our loved ones who were in the line of fire, and verify that by some miracle they had made it out of this catastrophe alive. Strange strokes of fate saved our loved ones, but we knew that thousands of people had not been so lucky.
At 4:00 I got dressed and I went to work. The small sushi house I waited tables in was located across the street from a hotel. I hadn't expected it to be busy, but that night I walked into a mad house. Most of the hotel guests were stranded, due to the chaos in New York. They had spent their days desperately trying to reach their families who were, of course, terrified for the safety of these travellers. Danbury, Connecticut is a major commuting suburb for New York City, and most people staying there fly in and out through New York City airports, JFK or Laguardia.
The people in our restaurant that night were scared, emotionally exhausted, and far from their homes. There were Americans from every corner of the country, all watching the super sized lounge TV with open mouths and tears in their eyes. We watched the president's address together, over cups of hot tea, and bowls of white rice. We stumbled through our respective roles, finding comfort in our tasks of feeding and being fed.
Something my Chef taught us during cooking school rings true when I let this memory touch my heart. Feeding people feels good. It's the simplest, most fundamental way to pass love from one person to another. Cook with love, serve it with goodwill, and know that you are providing someone else with nourishment for both their body and soul. On a bad day, tasting something good may be the only pleasurable moment that you have. For all of us in the restaurant that night, this was one of the worst days of our lives. That night, every grain of rice was tasted.
Unfortunately, the days that followed that notorious September Eleventh, weren't always filled with the same kind of human camaraderie that we felt that night. I remember seeing video of people in some far away place celebrating about what had happened in New York. Almost ten years later, the American people are experiencing a momentous occasion of our own. Though I am happy to know that the death of Bin Laden will bring closure and a sense of justice to so many heart-broken families, I keep the following quotes in mind.
"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy." – Jessica Dovey
"Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” –Martin Luther King, Jr.