Perspectives from Ground Zero:
PART 6

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There's an empty bed tonight at Station Two-Ten - no, there's more I counted wrong. Jim and George and John and Sam, and oh yes, Pete have left on a visit. They shan't return. They were the city's best, a proud and proven crew. They rushed in while others rushed out.

It's hard, so very hard to see the neatly made bunks, the empty boots, the empty lockers. Their bodies are gone, but their spirits remain. It would devastate even the strongest of men and women, but the all-pervasive exhaustion from duty beyond the call of duty dulls the emotions. Still, every time a door opens you expect to see them walk through it.

They all try to ignore it, these men to whom so much is owed, but the guilt remains. Why them and not me, I don't understand? A step, a moment and it could have been me. Their thoughts turn to God and wonder, "Why, why O God should this be?"

In moments, few indeed, they search for answers in this world we call life. Surely there must be more, more than this. They go about their jobs, but it's not the same, you see a part of them - their friends and family - are gone. They seek for solace, but who can heal a wounded heart, who can fill the emptiness inside?

But then a child stops by and salutes, wonderment and awe within his eyes. A wife, a mother, a father or two stop and shake their hands - they too, like thousands of others, are sharing our grief. Suddenly it comes, their friends would think better of them - self-pity is for the weak, not for these men. So they stand before the empty beds in honor of their friends and release them to their God on high.

And in the mist of the morning sky they look up and see their friends marching through the gates of glory with God's angels at attention - and they march before the throne of God their heads held high.

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