Read Online The Woman Who Wasn’t There by Robin Gaby Fisher, Jr. Angelo J. Guglielmo - Free Book Online

survivors’ perspectives and as a conduit for the common thoughts of survivors.”
    The seed planted by Bogacz nearly a year earlier had sprung its first blossom. They were officially a group with a name, a direction, and an ambitious long-term agenda. They would begin by identifying as many of the people who had survived the attack on the towers as they could—a challenge because the number that survived was somewhere in the thousands. Then their job would be finding ways to facilitate the needs of their forgotten comrades. Ultimately, the survivors would need to find a common voice to finally be recognized as part of the 9/11 community and have a say in the important decisions about the rebuilding and memorials at the World Trade Center site.
    It was time to move forward. But the next step had chinks that, up till then, had proved insurmountable.
    In the two years and four months since the destruction of the towers, and life as they’d known it, the survivors had never been permitted private access to ground zero the way that family members and first responders had. If they chose to go to the site to pay their respects to the dead or to spend a moment reflecting on that life-changing morning, they were expected to tough it out like every other visitor and wade through throngs of tourists with their fanny packs and cameras, and past the dozens of vendor carts with 9/11 baseball caps and postcards with the towers before and after the attack—only to be stopped at the tall metal fencing that surrounded the trade center grounds. Bogacz and every other founding member of his group triedrepeatedly to arrange a private tour for survivors to visit the footprint of the towers, but the powers within the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey had always rebuffed their requests—another indication that the survivors were invisible.
    The number one item on the network’s agenda was to facilitate a Survivors’ Day at the site, a time when only they would be permitted inside the fence. “This would provide survivors the opportunity to remember, find solace, and to move forward in the healing process,” the group wrote in the meeting minutes. It would also go a long way toward lending credibility to the new network and drawing in other survivors. But how to do it? Everyone agreed to come up with strategies for discussion at the next gathering.
    After the meeting adjourned, Bogacz and Tania walked two blocks through the foot of snow that blanketed the city to the twenty-four-hour Tick Tock Diner, which was located across from Penn Station and served breakfast all day. Over multiple cups of coffee, they talked about their lives since 9/11 and how lonely it was being a survivor. Tania told him that for nearly two years afterward, she had rarely left her apartment. She had been stuck in a debilitating depression, was unable to return to her job, and had gained a lot of weight. She still couldn’t go to sleep without leaving on a light. One day she woke up and decided that enough was enough. If she was ever going to heal, she had to crawl outside of herself and do something to help others. Bogacz was struck by Tania’s optimism and kindheartedness. After all she’d been through, she was still able to smile and laugh, and she encouraged him to do the same.
    At one point, Tania suggested that her online support group merge with the Survivors’ Network. There was power in numbers, she said. One comprehensive organization would have more political might than small, fractured groups, and that meant reaching larger numbers of survivors. She said that she was ready and willing to put in as much time as it took to pull it all together, even if it meant using her own money and spending less time at her job at Merrill Lynch. Bogacz agreed that it sounded like a good idea, and he was convinced it could work. With their strong management backgrounds, they could accomplisha lot together, he said, and hopefully some of her optimism and energy