"Her Twin Tower Tears"

(Published September 14, 2001)

Lady Liberty is alone again, waiting for the rain.

I remember when they were being built. I had just started my first job in media, as a paperboy.

One of my Long Island Press customers was in construction. He lived on Cherry Street, and his five- and six-year-old kids used to stop and tell me all about their Dad's job, working on the Twin Towers so high in the sky.

Every week or so, as a 12-year-old, I'd hear wonderful new stories about these still-budding skyscrapers and began seeing them as the young boy and girl who entertained me along my route.

I remember the kids laughing and exclaiming how their father told them that, once the towers were built, "they'll be able to dance every time the wind blows." Then they'd sway a little to demonstrate.

But now all I can think of is Lady Liberty. Suddenly alone. Though over 100 years proud, her spirit must hurt today like so many who've lost someone they love. In a sense, she lost her children, her precious Yin & Yang who delighted her so, as they stood so tall, dancing for her each time the wind blew.

And now they are gone, and like many of us, she awaits the rain, silently calling for it, impatiently waiting, wanting now to be cleansed by it, and for it to give her cover.

You see, with the rain she can cry and no one ever knows. Now, and for the rest of her (and our) lives, every time the Atlantic blows in rain, who can say that Liberty won't be sobbing her Twin Tower tears for her children, longing for the way they danced.