United Aromatherapy Effort

Daina's Impressions

Sat, Feb 4, 2012
10:49pm

I'm one of the lucky ones that got to return to New York for the third time.

I love New York. I love New Yorkers. And I love being a team member of CERMT. We have the privilege of witnessing up close and personal some of the healing taking place in the aftermath. With the change of seasons, there is a shift in the air. There was more daylight this time. And there was more of a buzz in the air. More talking. More stories to listen to. There were firefighters actually telling their experiences, with some hesitation, but also with hope in their voices. Almost like the budding trees here in North Carolina, they were showing a little more color and potential for growth. What brought this on?? My interpretation is the brotherhood bonding effect of so many visitors for the St. Patrick's day Parade. Nothing like the Irish tradition to combine mourning with a little drink to get folks sharing what finally needed to be shared.

Personally, I missed the parade, even though we arrive on the morning of the 17th. New York and all the visitors celebrated on Saturday the 16th. Rather, I experienced the special moment of the parade through the words of a Firefighter from Florida. He told us that he and his buddy came up to show support and march in the parade. He described the special salute to the WTC victims in such a way that I felt I was there myself. By the end of the week I had heard that quote repeatedly,"you could have heard a pin drop" when at one point the entire parade turned to the towers area for a moment of silence. Such amazing unity and cooperation from an otherwise raucous day. What a sight it must have been to see that many men in their dress uniforms joined by firefighters and supporters from places like L.A., Chicago, Ireland and Germany. It really was a day of bonding and brotherhood. The FLA FF said after the parade wound down he found himself walking down a street that had a Firehouse and he and his buddy were welcomed to a reunion like gathering.

He described a multigenerational party complete with kids climbing the engine, older folks propped up against the walls and young girls doing irish dancing. So much energy and emotion expounded that day that no wonder that Sunday, actual St. Paddy's was rather a quiet day. I suppose I did the right thing to start out slow since my workweek began at 2:00 am Monday morning. The "graveyard" shift has become familiar to me down at St. Paul's and there is something to be said about touching base with Ground Zero upon arrival. I do so love it when I am greeted by a familiar face or two in the middle of the night. This time we were successful in working on quite a few NYPD.

They can be a "difficult customer" since they have the bullet proof vest and gunbelts to deal with. My fellow team member Tina from Alaska was particularly happy to distribute aromatherapy to those guys and hand out her many souvenir items from that her villages' police department sent along with her "to Trade". I was struck by the sincerity of thanks that the guys would express. Sometimes they are shy to come over and receive treatment and other times they say they have gotten used to the affect of massage/aromatherapy.

Yet four months later, so manyof them still thank us from the bottom of their hearts. That choked me up on my first shift. The next day or so we were able to take it easy. In a city that never sleeps, that held true for myself and my roomates that pulling an allnighter usually meant a catch up of anly two hours of sleep. But the streets of New York are so stimulating, one can make it around on minimal energy. My roomate Josh and I wandered around Rockefeller Center and payed our respects in St. Patricks' Cathedral before stopping in at the Firezone. This is a Firesafety Education facility in midtown Manhattan complete with an engine and all the equipment Firefighters use during rescues. They have a theater set up to teach small groups about making a plan of escape if a fire should overtake their home.

I had seen the real deal during previous deployments, so this make shift station felt a little too shiny .But,I had never heard a Firefighter so openly share his story. He told us that he had been in Florida in September when he heard word of the disaster. It was all he could do to get on the road home ASAP. He spoke of listening to the Radio account of the incident all the way through the Bible belt and how he was touched by so much coverage to an event that was happening in his hometown. Within 18 hours he was dressed and ready to search for survivors in the rubble. He spoke with a quiet pride how he was the one to find the body of his Little Brother. Ten years his junior, his brother and his buddy died in the disaster. He shared with us that the family of the buddy showed up at the Firehouse after the parade and that he was able to speak of the recovering of the body for the first time in six months. Josh and I listened attentively with awe as he explained that telling his story is how he's coping. It's painful each time to recount those events but he believes it helps him. There are so many stories still untold since there are so many of us that have difficulty releasing what lies heavy in our hearts. This fifty plus Firefighter is a personal hero of mine to be setting an example for the other guys not to hold it all inside.

On the lighter side, it was fun to hear the stories that the visiting Firefighters shared about their Fundraising schemes. Two of my favorite stories were the British television stars pulling a "pump" (or fire engine) down the road to raise money per mile. Then a visitng Chicago FF told us of their fundraiser that had the guys all dyeing their hair blonde. He said he had no idea that it could take three hours to bleach his latin jet black crop. I love how the hair dying crossed the generations and brought a sense of solidarity from a distance. I could only smile and watch as they proudly would display their station patches on the wall that showed anyone who stopped by that people from all over world wanted to leave their mark that they care.

Lastly, I have to say that I was overwhelmed when I realised I had touched some real live angels. With all the hero worship over the past few months it is amazing to me how modest and dedicated firefighters can be. I must share my experience that still moves me emotionally. There is a Firehouse in Bedford Stuyvesant that is near one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in New York. Our Director and I visited there around Christmas time and again in February. We kind of arrived quietly and did our work and left when our shift was up. Since it was quite a distance form our hotel in midtown it seemed to me that it was fairly removed fom the city. This time a fellow team member and I came into a familiar setting and I was pleased to see someone I recognized. I cannot recall his name but his laugh lines had this eveready smile were instantly recognizable. He could be a stage actor with his kind of presence. He wore glasses and was accompanied by his dog, Bedford, a black lab. He was familiar with the chair massage routine and commented how he especially like his scalp worked on. At that moment I wished I had had some training in Cranial Sacral work. Later, before our ride arrived I was looking at the photos that hung on the wall by the stairwell. They looked similar to ones that are for sale on the streets with firefighters emerging from the rubble and the towers burning. As I looked closer at the helmuts of the guys I realized that they were 102 an 209. How could this be that we were so far "out of town" yet these guys were at the scene of the crime while the buildings were still standing?. One of the photos was the dog owner without his glasses and covered with dust and together with a third guy helping a dust covered firefighter limp out of the rubble. I would not have recognized him. A talkative guy at the house pointed it out to me that these guys in the photos were from that house and started to tell me his story. How they were dispatched to a tunnel and how they had to walk two and a half miles to the other end all the while carrying their equipment. He said the atmosphere in there was that of a bombscare and they were ready for the next one to go off. Never before had I heard such personal accounts. He talked about how thirsty they were and how they approached the scene that everyone else was fleeing. I was overwhelmed by their reality. This was my third visit to this house and only after listening to this account did I realize I had touched some angels. They were survivors. They made it through that day, and weeks and months later still go on. You'd think they would feel they had enough. Not so, the guy, with the glasses, who was right in the rubble that first day was going down to ground zero that night to volunteer in the search. Four months later there are still bodies to be uncovered. Aprox. sixteen were found the week that we were there. I finally understood that evening that these guys got to do what they have got to do. One week in in NYC exhausts me. As I write this I am nursing a chest/head cold. These guys work their regular shifts and then on their off time gear up and go down to the site and work all night searching for the remains of their brothers.

I learned something that evening that I wasting my energy being angry at the system for allowing the in-human hours that the operation is demanding. It is a very sobering moment to sit across from a guy at the kitchen table and know that when he's given the choice to go home and rest or volunteer his time in the search, he makes it very clear that he will continue going back until the job is done.

As we left out the back of that firehouse that evening it was quite dark, we could see the beams of light in the distance that reached into the sky as tall as the towers once stood.My friends and I had been down the previous evening to view the memorial lights right at the site. Terri had commented that the swirl of the fog in the beams gave the illusion of the many souls rising into the heavens. I prefered the memory of the beams from the distance of the firehouse that once seemed so far and yet to this day is still so deeply involved. It was like leaving a distant relatives house when you were a kid. They make you feel at home but you don't know if you will be passing this way again. Just a bit further out from that 2 1/2 mile tunnel liveand work the Bed /Stuy guys, the most modest waking angels I have had the privelege to work on.

Namaste
Daina Urbaitis LMBT#2686
4323 Beechnut Lane
Durham, North Carolina 27707
CERMT team member
DUgetintouch@bigfoot.com