The beginning of the month of Elul leads up to the High Holidays and the 20th anniversary commemoration of 9/11. When I looked at the calendar this week, it was no coincidence to me that Shabbat Shuva is September 11, 2021, right between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, strengthening my resolve to NEVER FORGET.
Between November 2001 and March 2002, I was a volunteer at the Ground Zero Relief Project, Spring Street Warehouse north and east of the Twin Towers. It was a converted art studio where volunteers procured and delivered supplies to the first responder/recovery crews at Ground Zero. When I returned to New York after a ten-year hiatus, I finally confronted my volunteer experience and the aftermath of 9/11 for the first time. The result was a poetry book published this past April—“In the Aftermath—9/11 Through a Volunteer’s Eyes,” written to commemorate the 20th anniversary and dedicated to the first responders, recovery crews and volunteers. I have included two of the poems from this collection in remembrance of the lives lost on and since September 11, 2001 and all those who continue to suffer from the toxic effects of Ground Zero.
Zochreinu l’chaim.
The Sabbath Shift
…within sight of trucks filled with body parts from the World Trade Center,
women from Stern College sat outside in a tent fulfilling the commandment
to keep watch over the dead… “The burly state trooper who guards the area
learned the girls’ names and a bit about their religion.”
(New York Times, November 2001)
With my voice
I cry unto the Lord
She sits alone
beside the trucks
intoning David’s psalm
but she is not alone—
hip,
hands,
leg,
from sunset to sunrise
sanctified by the shomer’s prayer
Shabbat Shalom
Shabbat Shalom
The Trooper’s Sabbath Shift
She’s got
no business being here Sitting in this tent
next to pieces of dead people
by herself
in the dark
Girls her age
are like all the other kids I know Driving their cars downtown
Friday night Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to
stop them Give them a warning for speeding So what’s she
doing here
buttoned to the neck Skirt down to her ankles
nothing in her hands
but her prayer book Just her and me Yesterday
she came by early Asked me to hold on to her snacks and book
’cause she can’t carry them on Shabbos Didn’t know what
she was talking about until she told me It’s the Jewish Sabbath
First I thought
it was kind of strange she wouldn’t carry her own food
to get through the night but now I don’t mind
being her Shabbos helper And her voice! She opens her book
chants her prayers until the sun comes up
Last week she started with the Lord is my shepherd
Cried like a baby Good thing none of my buddies was around
None of us including those body parts in the trucks
wants to be here in this G-d-less place
Except her.
Beth SKMorris is the author of three poetry books: “In Florida” (2010) “Nowhere to be Found” (2014), and “In the Aftermath- 9/11 Through a Volunteer’s Eyes” (2021). Beth holds a master’s in English Language & Literature (Univ. of Michigan) and a PhD in Speech, Language, & Hearing Science from the Graduate School and Center, CUNY.
