Today is no better.

I thought today would be better, but the numbness remains. I’ve not heard from my friend, but word is that all Oppenheimer employees got out safely, so things must be OK for her.

I’m still glued to the television. There are times when I think I can’t bear to watch any more. The interview with the mother of a man on the plane the crashed in Pennsylvania still resonates. That man and others on the flight will emerge as a few of the many heroes when events are finally sorted out.

There was a four year old child on one flight, a two year old on another. I saw their ages when I was scanning the passenger lists for familiar names.

One of the few rescued alive from the rubble had to have his leg amputated in order to rescue him. They have rescued nine people so far. They aren’t finding many bodies.

A firefighter from a town five minutes from where I sit is being interviewed on television now. He drove up to New York last night to help in the rescue efforts. It feels good to know neighbors are working on site in NYC.

I stayed at the Westin Hotel in Copley Square in Boston when I was there in July. Now it’s on the television set, its occupants evacuated and a SWAT team moving into it. No explanations are forthcoming.

A woman is being interviewed. Her husband might or not be alive. ABC is putting her name on television in hopes that her husband might be one of the three that survived from the 104th floor that were transported to New Jersey hospitals. She and her entire neighborhood have been calling New Jersey hospitals looking for him. She holds out hope against hope he’s one of the three. She’s seven and a half months pregnant.

It doesn’t get better. Yesterday it was catastrophe of inconceivable proportions. Now it is hundreds, if not thousands, of smaller stories. And each story has a name and a face.

I am overwhelmed. There seems to be nothing I can do. I can’t give blood. I have no skills that are needed. All I can do is continue to watch.