By R. Rosenfeld He asked me “Are you headed north?” I nodded and he followed. The two of us, coated in dust – left footprints in the ash of pulverized humans, computers, desks and towers. We made our way side by side through the gray Armageddon surrounding us. Had my grandmother’s ashes floated this […]
No one spoke. We all moved as if we were underwater. And somehow, then we had to make Rosh Hashanah.
When the terror attack occurred, Avremel was fifty-five; his friend Ed, a quadriplegic, was forty-two. Both worked at Empire Blue Cross/Blue Shield as program analysts on the 27th floor of One World Trade Center.
The following is a meager attempt to record the awesome occurrences that both my colleagues in Hatzalah–the emergency Jewish volunteer ambulance service for all members of the New York community–and I had experienced during our rescue efforts at the World Trade Center attack of September 11th. Of course no words can truly capture the thoughts, […]
By R. Rosenfeld He asked me “Are you headed north?” I nodded and he followed. The two o
No one spoke. We all moved as if we were underwater. And somehow, then we had to make R
When the terror attack occurred, Avremel was fifty-five; his friend Ed, a quadriplegic,
By R. Rosenfeld He asked me “Are you headed north?” I nodded and he followed. The two o
No one spoke. We all moved as if we were underwater. And somehow, then we had to make R
When the terror attack occurred, Avremel was fifty-five; his friend Ed, a quadriplegic,
By R. Rosenfeld He asked me “Are you headed north?” I nodded and he followed. The two o
No one spoke. We all moved as if we were underwater. And somehow, then we had to make R
When the terror attack occurred, Avremel was fifty-five; his friend Ed, a quadriplegic,