On the Front Lines, a Struggle to Return to Normalcy

Sep 13 2001

NEW YORK - For the first time since Tuesday morning, life on most of the island of Manhattan is showing some signs of normalcy. The sidewalks are filled with New Yorkers who appear bound for a destination, returning to their regular habits of walking against the crossing lights, talking on cell phones, shuffling around deliverymen unloading crates of food into grocery stores.

The streets, where passable, are filled with vehicles other than the army trucks, cabs and emergency vehicles that have dominated the city's passageways for the last two days. Starbucks has reopened its doors. A mailman pushes his cart of mail with a solemn look on his face, while a FedEx employee drops off a package with a smile and a friendly exchange with a doorman.

But for many of us in New York, even more so than in the rest of the country, returning to work is an emotional struggle. With the vivid images of horror haunting our minds, both that of the physical destruction and of the unimaginable pain consuming thousands of family rooms as a result of it, the tasks of daily work seem trivial and petty. While we understand that our only retaliation against the terrorists is a determined return to American life, our perception of reality, and of what really matters in this world, has changed by startling measures.

As a business reporter, I know the story before me is immense, and it is one that will continue to reveal itself for the foreseeable future. But somehow it still seems too early to be telling it. Writing about the loss of files or computer data seems insignificant next to the massive loss of life. Stories about the frustrations of spotty cell phone coverage are incomprehensible next to the reports of survivors phoning loved ones from deep beneath the rubble.

And even while the business of America, after all, is business, the first steps of assessing the impact to the business landscape offer yet more reminders of the human dimension of this tragedy. I am one of the fortunate people in this city who has not lost a loved one or a dear friend in the tragedies in New York or Washington, D.C. While I do have friends who are hanging onto some hope that they will hear from friends that were in the towers, the large hole in the earth less than two miles from my home has miraculously had little impact on my own circle of loved ones. My pain is for those that I don't know, and for the damage the attack has had on this country's sense of security and economic stability.

But upon reading The New York Times this morning, I realized that I too have an immediate connection to the long list of those missing – in this case, a professional connection, but immediate nonetheless. According to a woman interviewed by The Times who was rescued from an elevator moments before the first tower came down, some of her co-workers in the same elevator have not yet been confirmed alive. Dean Eberling and Russell Keene, two research analysts from the boutique investment bank Keefe, Bruyette and Woods, are among them.

Although I've never met these men in person, I spoke to both of them from time to time during my coverage of the financial services industry for The Industry Standard. My relationship with them began when the two worked together for Putnam Lovell Securities, before they were recruited by Keefe, Bruyette and Woods. I digested their research reports, phoned them regularly for comments for stories, and counted them among dozens of insightful industry sources. They were consistently reliable and provided smart analysis, standing out in what often times seems to be a uniform world of unvarying voices.

As I type this story, rescue workers are pulling survivors from the devastation downtown, providing some well-needed hope amid the seemingly endless carnage. Each of the people added to the growing missing list, including Mr. Eberling and Mr. Keene, is much more than the role they played in their offices within the World Trade Centers. They are the friends, fathers, mothers, children, spouses and siblings of thousands of people around the world who are hanging onto some shred of hope that they will emerge alive.

As I found out by opening the New York Times this morning, even the professional relationships I've had over the years are to a certain degree personally painful in connection with this tragedy. To that extent, I imagine that very few people in this country will emerge from this without at least some distant connection, either personally or professionally, to a life lost this week.

It is often times difficult to separate our personal lives from our business activities, our professional drive from our individual emotions. This has never been more real for Americans than it is this week, as we watch intrepid firefighters digging through wreckage as they fight tears of loss, as a television reporter chokes up while delivering the news, as co-workers mourn the loss of their colleagues.

In due time, the sirens will fall silent and the tears will dry, and even the most trivial news stories will somehow seem relevant to us again. And our relationships - both personal and professional - will be much more meaningful as a result. Until then, it's back to work, in whatever capacity we can.