New From Stacey In Brooklyn

Let me preface Stacey's entry by saying that I am so glad she is sharing her stories, thoughts, heartbeat on this BLOG.

now, here is Stacey:

Since the last time I wrote, I thought I knew exactly how I was going to
progress with this blog thing…I was going to write chapter to chapter,
year to year, experience to experience of what I feel has carried me to
this point in life. I have to excuse that structure cause I have the
most amazing experience to share. Maybe then I will continue the
original script but for now excuse this brief interruption.

Almost a month ago was the 9.11 anniversary. I do live in NYC, well
Crooklyn, so it affects me greatly. I was here when it happened and
each year feels just about the same. You see the faces on the subway
if u have the balls to actually ride one that day. The faces on the
sidewalks, in each store you enter, literally everywhere….sadness
floats like a thick haze, hot and humid. I went to work and came home
that night…I flipped through my tevo and was thrilled to see Oprahs
new season had begun airing. This particular episode, the children and
families of 9.11. My heart sank, should I watch it should I wait,
should I skip it all together. Now, Stacey looooooves Oprah, children,
real honest stories, and yes…sometimes I do like to cry, so I pushed
start.

The tears that fell that early evening, stained my cheeks with black
lines from not wearing my waterproof mascara that day and made my puppy
look at me in that loving way she does. My sadness was overwhelming.
I felt empty for our world, for the families, for me…not being able to
do anything more for these people. The kids, oh my god…to hear their
wishes and dreams shattered, the innocent voice that they spoke with
clarity and honesty, how they missed their father or mother, sister,
brother…didn’t matter who or the connection that bonded them….they
were gone. The held pictures and pillows with a t shirts on top so
they could “hug” their daddy before bed and in the morning. They
still stand in front of the door waiting for them to come home, or cant
sleep at night cause of the visions they see or miss too much. I mean
I’m crying just writing this.

I wish for each person to have seen this taping.

At the end of the show, I saw something, a mother with five children who
told her story. A man named Steven Siller. A fire fighter from
Brooklyn New York. I froze. My vision so blurry from my tears but my
ears hearing everything loud and clear. To summarize, Firefighter
Steven Siller was just off duty on his way home, he heard on his radio
the world trade center was hit right after the first plane. He turned
his truck around to drive through the Battery Tunnel to get to the West
side. At this point the Battery Tunnel was closed. He wasn’t
allowed to drive through. This is how the story goes, he got out of
his truck, put on 75lbs of his fire gear, everything, and sprinted with
all his might to WTC, now ground zero. He was last seen near Liberty
and West Street. This man ran to save his world, the world we all
share.

Oprah mentioned a run that the Siller family puts together every year
since the attack…she mentioned the website tunneltotowers.org. I
caught my breath and went to the site immediately. I looked at
pictures, read his biography, news coverage, everything…took me a long
time but I did. At that moment I knew what I could do. I entered the
charity run. 50 dollar donation, 3.1 miles run, tracking his footsteps
from the day he was going to save his world.

I know three miles doesn’t seem that long but from a girl who hates to
run outside with a bad knee, its was a challenge. I decided to run 5
days a week from that point on. I would come home from work, and run
in the dark as far as I possibly could. I changed my diet so I would
have the energy I needed….everyone was telling me to eat carbs, which
I try so hard not toJ but I did for this. Each week my runs became
longer and longer, running across the Brooklyn bridge and back, running
along the FDR, running through the cobble stone streets in my brownstone
neighborhood, running through prospect park…I mean I ran
everywhere…but it felt so good! My body and heart were more
connected than ever.

Yesterday was the run. Now I’m not sure words can express what one
feels going through that tunnel, that run, seeing the families the
faces, the crowd, the energy. I have never ever in my 31 years of
living ever felt like an angel. Yesterday I did. An angel that was
floating with all the other participants, families, supporters, but
mostly spirits from those who sacrificed their lives and the innocent
victims of that day that changed our world, our souls. It started in
Brooklyn, Red Hook, right before the entrance of the Battery Tunnel and
ended next to ground zero. The tunnel lined with men and woman with
our flag standing upright and banners of black and white faces staring
at me as I ran. Screaming over powered my ipod. I could barely
breathe cause I was a lil claustrophobic but I ended up taking off
almost all my clothes, the lighter the better at that point. Anyway, I
reached the end of that tunnel, saw the light. Saw crowds of people, I
mean hundreds lined the streets. There were bands, cheerleaders,
horses, everything, you name it, I saw it that day. I ran passed the
water on the west side over to liberty street. I high-five people on
my way. I was no longer hearing Kanye West blaring in my ears. I was
deaf by my vision. I saw the finish line and sprinted. Crossing that
line was one of the biggest accomplishments of my adult life. This
experience is up there with graduate school. It was surreal, like I
may have dreamt it. But I think it was real. My heart was full, not
empty or lost. I gave back anonymously but with all of me, all 115% of
Stacey.Painful discovery is the most heartfelt, the most genuine, the
most we can do, when it comes from our angelic soul.