9/11 journal / bleak winter

During the late fall and early winter a profound sadness overcame me regarding my neighborhood. I felt like the carpetbaggers had come to pick through the ashes. Relatives, government workers and city officials fought over who owned the right to the most pain,who was the most heroic, and the money, real estate money.

Everyone talked about money. How much would it cost? How much would the neighborhood get? Thousands moved into my neighborhood to save money on rent, who cares about asbestos? The streets around the WTC site were clogged with tables selling gruesome reminders of my life over the last year. Where was the modern Christ who would step in and overturn the tables of the money changers?

Real estate speculators came in droves for the huge subsidies, and the final indignity of a survivor, I left my home, and studio, of 20 years.