Toward Light (9/11 Tribute)

(September 11 by Gerhard Richter)

Thursday, 13 September 2001, 12:30pm

42nd Street F Station, New York

Some of us walked out of the train at 42nd Street. We walked up stairs, through turnstiles, to another staircase. We slowed down, then stopped. A man a few steps above lifted his left crutch onto the next step.

We waited in silence. No one pushed past to get to a meeting.

He lifted his right crutch onto the next step.

No one shouted. No one was in a hurry.

We waited. Maroon tiles colored the staircase walls that led to Bryant Park.

He lifted himself up.

We stepped up.

We were all here together, alive, standing on these steps. There was nowhere more important to rush off to. There was nothing more important than to wait for this man to climb to 42nd Street. The world was fragile. We were fragile . . . 

He lifted the left crutch onto the next step.

No one spoke. People above waiting to descend stood still. No one pushed through to catch the next train. A man just above the climber waited, pressing himself into the maroon tiles to make more room. 

We would wait here with him for eternity.

He lifted the right crutch onto the next step.

We had always stood on these steps, patiently waiting, but didn’t know until something drastic woke us up.

He lifted himself up.

We were awake. We were grateful for the privilege of waiting for this man. We were grateful for sidewalks and streetlights, for volunteers giving coffee cups to diggers, for the sun streaking maroon tiles with stripes of gold.

He lifted the left crutch onto the next step.

There was no rush.

He lifted the right crutch onto the next step.

New York was silent and still.

Our leader lifted himself up.

We quietly stepped up, slowly, slowly climbing toward light.

~Erik Pihel