At St. Francis of Assisi Church on
September 11, 2002
Volunteer Account
The
following is a recap of one volunteer's experience working with Mychal's
Message as part of our "Blessed Bloomers" Project distribution in New
York City. This was written as a note to her friends and family, but when
she shared it with us, we thought it was the best possible account of the
day we could provide.
I know many of you watched a lot of TV in the last few days, reviewing the events of 9-11-01, and I just wanted to share with you what it was like for me being in NYC yesterday. It was VERY different than the repeated devastating imagery the media presented.
We planned to go to St. Francis of Assisi church on 31st Street, located across from fire station no. 24. The day started at 6:30 a.m., with a sigh of relief that there were no problems getting into the city. The first thing that caught our eye was a huge flag, the width of the city street, draped between the church and fire station. How appropriate, I thought, our firefighters helped this country and God was at the center of it all, and it was in the location of this draped flag that the three were captured. God worked through many of the firemen from that very station to help our country, and from that fire station, God took Home some of its fighters.
As we approached the church we saw about a dozen or so homeless people lying on the sidewalks or on the church stairs. Though yesterday was warm, I wondered where they would go on a cold day. One of the friars came out to meet us and called to the various bodies that they needed to get up, another day was starting. It struck me that my morning had begun in a warm bed, had showered, put on clean clothes and then set about my day. Most days are like that, I wake up warm in a house, get ready for work, drive my car, and so forth. For these people, another day meant standing up from their dirty sidewalk bed. That was it, the whole start to their day...and from there I wondered where they would go, what they would do, who they "belonged" to. It didn't matter that it was the anniversary of 9-11-01...it gave me a new perspective.
We unloaded the bags of clothes we'd brought with us and then went to a diner across the street. I got a muffin and a hot cup of coffee. We hurriedly ate and exited to the street, were there was now a line of about 200 homeless people, waiting to get a sandwich and some coffee on the breadline, which operates 365 days a year and has since 1929. I looked back at our table of unfinished coffee and muffins and thought how very lucky we are!
The coffee vat was set up and the line began to pass us. We offered them underwear, some crackers and a certificate for McDonald's. They were so genuinely HAPPY and so appreciative of what we were offering. I didn't hear one grumble about a lack of sleep or being chilly or hungry or where the next meal would come from or the fact that they were homeless...and thought of the times I have gotten up and felt tired from a lack of sleep or couldn't decide what to wear or was frustrated at a bad hair day.
Some came back to us two and three times for more crackers and underwear. One man said honestly, he'd been on line before, but he would really appreciate another pair of underwear. How many clothes did I have back in my closet that I never even touch?
And the friars...WOW! They were so enthused at our being there, treating us so warmly, when all we were doing was offering just a small token to the homeless. We were made to feel so welcomed, and it reminded me of how God's kingdom is open to those who feed the hungry and visit the poor...for me, it was such an EASY thing to do (though certainly my cousin had taken great efforts to collect the clothing)...and yet, how often do I take such a step - not even an extra step, but something that God calls us to take? And what GREAT rewards for the smallest of actions!
The line disbursed not long after and the doors from the fire department across the street opened up. A life-size metal sculpture of a firefighter pulling a man out of rubble was rolled out. The firemen were quiet, setting up the display. The street was quiet at that point, before the day began, and there were these two figures frozen forever, a memorial of the bravery of all those who responded. It was not about death, it was a sculpture about life, about saving others.
A great liberty bell, one of four created for this day to be placed in NYC, PA and DC, was rolled next to the sculpture. It was a memorial bell and would toll throughout the day in memory of those lost. Again, it seemed so appropriate, right outside of the very church that Father Mychal Judge preached at...the bell would toll for those who had gone Home to God. And Father Judge was the first officially counted among that group on September 11....I envisioned him leading the others to the pearly gates, just as he tried to do while alive.
We then attended mass, a beautiful service dedicated to those lost and those suffering from the pain of losing loved ones. The priest said that probably most of those 'lost' to us, if asked today, would not want to return to this world, that while we cling to things of this world, what awaits us with our Father is so much greater. It was, for me, very touching to look at it this way, a reminder of our mortality and the bigger picture of our existence.
There were moments of silence, the calling of names of those who'd perished, tears, hugs...and such a sense of peace and renewal. The firemen gathered outside the garage and called the names of their lost brethren and then saluted the flag. It was so touching...they were not beaten by the tragedy, but indeed, almost strengthened in their resolve, standing tall and straight up at the flag.
The bell began to toll, even through the moments of silence. Each bong commemorated a life...a life not lost, but a person who had entered immortality. And all around us on the street was this life, people stopping, remembering, tears and smiles...looks of comfort and compassion on every passerby's face.
The 4-year-old with my group had found a ramp and his shirt was dirty from sliding down it. One of the friars commented that this was the way Father Mychal Judge would have wanted it...living every moment to the fullest and appreciating the here and now.
By mid-afternoon I had for the most part put the homeless to the back of my mind. They had all just "disappeared" early in the morning. But I'm sure many of them were back on the breadline this morning, still happy waiting for their bread and morning drink, probably smiling and wearing their one or two new pieces of clothing, the only new clothes they may get in a long time. I can certainly take a lesson from them.
God was there yesterday, we could all feel his presence...the way the homeless appreciated our token, the way the firefighters stood tall and strong, the way the friars walked around smiling, reminding us of the brevity of this life and that God does not take lives in vain, the way the children played, the way the organs sounded "America the Beautiful," the way anonymous people approached us on the street to ask us about the prayer printed on the back of our shirts, the way the bell tolled and tears of release fell, the way a priest gathered my small group and we stood arm in arm, praying on the streets of the city, the way the wind blew the flag....God was there.
God bless America, and He has!!!!
Shannon's
Recollections
Following are
Shannon's recollections of the "Blessed Bloomers" Project distribution in New
York City on September 11, 2002.
You all know about our trip to New York City. Well, a few days after we decided that it was a sin to leave all of the underwear down in our basement. So, we decided to take a trip out to Philadelphia on Saturday, September14.
My mom yelled up to me in the morning to come downstairs and start getting ready. I felt that it was a Saturday at 8:00 and that I should be sleeping in. I yelled that I didn’t want to get up. Then, after a few minutes, I dragged myself out of bed. I grabbed a quick apple and a granola bar for breakfast and ran out the door.
Once we got in the car we realized that all of the children’s underwear wasn’t packaged. So, in the little space that we had, we packaged all of the little girls and little boys underwear. Looking at every pair of underwear and seeing the cute ones that a certain family had picked out for a girl or boy made me think that those girls and boys would be so happy to receive them.
Once we finally got there I was jumping with joy. We had to rush into the Inn because Sister Mary said that they had already started serving and that some were already leaving. Once we finally got situated, we started passing out. I had said that I wanted to pass out the children’s underwear. We also had a beanie baby for every child too. What made me so sad was that I saw these three girls ask me for some of the underwear. She probably was my age. It almost made me cry to think that someone my age had to ask another girl for underwear. I thought about myself and how embarrassing it would have been for me.
People passed by, many had little stories that they told us. Two people just stuck out in my mind, and I think that I will never forget it. One woman, as she was eating, all of a sudden she turned her head and look out into the open door at all of the people who were standing outside. I wondered what she was thinking, as I saw her blink every time, very slowly, I felt a tear come in my eye. Maybe she was thinking what would her day be like, even her night, where would she sleep. This woman reminded me of when this morning. I was to lazy to get out of my nice warm bed. Knowing that when I got up, I could take a nice warm shower. And, that there was food in the cabinet that I could manage for breakfast. I thought of all of the things I had and she maybe didn't.
Another one was a man, very nicely dressed. He was so young that he could have been my uncle or my dad. I felt so moved that this man had to ask us for underwear. We gave him some extra t-shirts also. Then I saw him eating, and I thought, "this could be it, this could be everything that this man lives for - food." I looked at the food and thought that it looked like a good meal. What if he didn't like it though? He had no say in that.
Anyway, the day soon ended. It was such an awesome pilgrimage. And I will never forget it.
Nana's Note
Shannon's Nana,
Sharon Hickey, wrote this note to family and friends following the "Blessed
Bloomers" Project distribution in New York City on September 11, 2002.
Dear Friends and Family,
We asked for underwear and you sent it. You sent hundreds of packages. Thank you. We repacked it. Each one contained one undershirt, a boxer, a brief, a pair of socks, 2 mints and a Father Mychal prayer card. We tied the bags with red, white and blue curled ribbon.
We loaded the bags into the cars and drove to a hotel outside the City for the night. The kids swam until 10 p.m. We had M & M's and cookies at midnight!
We arrived early to 31st. Street because the orange alert did not affect us. We were not stopped going through the Lincoln Tunnel.
We unloaded the bags of underwear and were ready. The line of homeless was long this day. We were glad we had plenty to give, thanks to all of you.
We gave the underwear bags to all. Everyone also received a Mc Donalds gift certificate and a few packs of peanut butter and cheese crackers. We tried to touch everyone, look into their eyes, and speak to them. In about 20 minutes it's over. They are gone, back into the streets.
We gave underwear, we went to Mass and Communion. We prayed for our Nation. We took the rope, to toll the bell, from a firefighter standing in full dress uniform. We rang it once for each life taken that day. We met the photographer that took the picture of Father Mychal being carried out of the rubble after his death. We touched the bronze bust of Father Mychal that was rolled out into the street while his name was read aloud at ground zero. We were invited to bring our picnic lunch into the friary where fresh coffee awaited us. We met Reverend Kidd from Virginia who prayed with us because Shannon is having surgery on Monday to repair her scar. We met people from East Rutherford that knew Mychal for 30 years too! We bought FDNY sweatshirts from the firehouse across the street. The house where Father Mychal spent so much time. We had dinner with Father Cassian.....pesto and pork and homemade applesauce. Brother Tom jumped through hoops to bring Christopher a Haagen Daas ice cream bar swimming in a bowl of chocolate syrup. We went to the concert in the Upper Church where Father Peter dedicated a stained glass window. A dove is looking down on firefighters and angels. Father Mychal is on the right corner of this beautiful window. In front of it stands a twisted piece of steel that once was part of the Twin Towers. People just silently touched it as they left that night. 9-11
But, I need to tell you that one of the most wonderful moments came unexpectedly..quite so......
Kelly first noticed John walking toward us. We recognized him because he carries 8 grocery bags. The weight is evenly distributed between his 2 hands. We have offered him larger and different bags from time to time, but he insists on carrying 8 bags. Kelly realized that he had missed the morning breadline and had gotten no underwear. Immdeiately, she opened her car and found him what he wanted. Boxers in size medium. We gave him 2 bags, boxers in both. It was then that Kelly decided to go back into the Friary to get him the Mc Donald gift certificates too. As John and I waited for Kelly to return, we talked. He was hungry. He then told me that he had some canned goods that someone had given him. I was happy to know that he could eat. No, he had no can opener....that's what he wanted...a can opener so he could open these canned goods to eat. He was hungry. Kelly returned with the gift certificates and a smile for John. John smiled too. What a moment!!! Kelly talked to John while I ran to the store to buy John exactly what he needed...a can opener. Thank you God for allowing us, mother and daughter, to share this moment in time. Within 10 minutes, John had opened one of his cans, pulled out a plastic spoon and was eating his dinner. He leaned up against the walls of the Church of Saint Francis to eat. Shannon waited for him to finish in private. (As private as you can be on the street). She asked him how his dinner was. John said, and this is a quote, "IT WASN'T CHEF BOYARDEE, BUT IT WAS GOOD"
That was one of the highlights of the day for us.
We thank you all for your kindness and support.
We pray for all of you and especially John.....so glad to have met him again.
- Sharon Hickey for Mychal's Message
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