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Bon Journal

Far from the madding crowd

After finishing my morning exercises, I noticed a crowd of people gathered outside the church next to the gym. They were all dressed formally, in black. The sea of black reached black limousines parked alongside the road.

"Whose funeral?" I asked myself.

I walked up to the huge heart-shaped flower wreaths and read the names. There were so many names. They couldn't possibly be having a group funeral! Many weren't even related.

Then it dawned on me. This was no ordinary funeral. It was a memorial service for all who have lost on 11th September 2001.

Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat. My eyes became blinded by my tears. I could hardly get on my bicycle to leave the scene.

Far from the maddening crowd I cycled. The blue skies reminded me of running away from the claustrophobia of being trapped in skyscraper city a year ago. I had to get away. North, to Central Park. South, to New Jersey. Anywhere, but the madding crowd.

11 September 2002 Wednesday

Black Tuesday - a poem with lovely piano music, found on the Internet

I can't cry hard enough - song by the Williams Brothers (music)

Two of the chief executives I interviewed for my energy articles perished in the North Tower of the World Trade Centre. I've never met them in my life. But I read about them in New York Times' Portraits of Grief.

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