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THE ELUSIVE GIFT OF TRAGEDY
by
Regina Rose Murphy

On the surface, all was well. I enrolled John in an on-line school where he could take academic classes from home using his computer. That took a great deal of stress off of me. Getting John to school each day was always the hardest part of my day. For John going to school was like putting him in boiling water every day. I would drive him to school and watch him enter the building. At lunchtime, he would leave the school premises and go hang out with his friends. I did not know where he would hang out and that always weighed heavily on my mind.

Facing the opposition from John Sr. about computer learning from home took a great deal of courage on my part because he felt John would play his guitar instead of concentrating on his schoolwork. Of course, he was right and I knew this, but I also knew that John’s passion was to play his guitar. John liked to learn on the computer and always got good marks if I could get him to actually do the work.

My life was busy taking full-time care of my friend with Parkinson’s who lived in our home 24/7, volunteering at the St. Therese Center doing massage and taking aura photos. I was also having some health challenges that had begun in February. Basically, it was that my menstrual period never ended. All tests showed negative for cancer but nothing could stop my bleeding, not even strong doses of progesterone.

Also, the family was in extreme turmoil over the merger of J & R Flooring with a company owned by someone who seemed to me to be “less than reputable.” I had relinquished my shares of the company to my children in hopes the company would live on for generations to come. Although I now had no legal or financial interest in the company, the emotional shock to my children over the merger was severe. I had no choice but to “stuff” those emotions and pretend this merger didn’t bother me. Many of us have no idea what else to do with painful emotions except to “stuff “ them as we have all been taught.

As usual, another fabulous distraction was about to occur to take my mind off the merger. My niece, Jen, had a major roll in a play called No Mother to Guide Her in a little theater in Tribecca, New York. Closing night was Monday, September 10, 2001, and John, David and I had tickets for that night. We were to arrive on September 10th, check into the Marriott World Trade Center, watch the play and leave the following day – Tuesday, September 11th.

Except for some really scary dreams I was having about that trip, I was looking forward to it, and focused on the positive things in my life. Another life-altering moment was about to occur. My daughter Michelle blessed us with a rare visit to our house. Michelle and I were sitting on the couch when John came out of his room and boldly announced, in no uncertain terms, “I’m not going to New York.” I quickly asked, “Why?” Michelle didn’t wait for his answer and said, “I’ll take his place.” And it was done.

A minor complication surfaced in that Michelle’s stepson, Gino, would be turning seven on Sunday September 9, and she had planned a birthday party for Gino on that day. Michelle asked, “Could we change all the reservations, mom so I can have the party for him Sunday?” She asked this casually, as if it was no big deal, but for me it was huge. First, the airlines are a pain in the you-know-what when you’re using frequent flyer miles to book a flight. Second, the theater was so tiny that it would take a miracle to get new tickets for the last Friday night performance. Miraculously everything was changed and this new schedule was actually going to work out better for Jen because on the last night of a play, there is a cast party and we would not have been able to spend any time with her. This was no small miracle; in fact, it was “A Really Big Miracle,” but we didn’t know that then.

Michelle and I arrived at the hotel in the Marriott World Trade Center on Friday, September 7th, along with my sister Diane and brother-in law Danny, Jen’s parents. Danny worked for Blue Cross and his office was on the 27th floor of the World Trade Center (WTC). As I walked into the building, I began to hemorrhage heavily. In fact, very heavily. I headed to the nearest restrooms that were only a few feet away in the Tall Ships Bar. (The exit in this bar became the main exit through which thousands of people would flee the tower only four days later. So much debris was blocking the other exits that people were diverted through this doorway in order to get out of the building, despite falling bodies and chunks of concrete.)

Once we left the building for lunch and a tour of the area, I felt better. Back then, I never took photographs, but that day, I bought a throwaway camera and photographed many sites of and near the twin towers. I even took one in the subway when we were approaching the terminal at the World Trade Center.

When we arrived at the theater that night, I had the strangest uneasy feeling during the entire time I was inside. I was trying to concentrate on the play so I could discuss it later with Jen but the strange, foreboding feeling was overwhelming. (The next play that would be performed in the theater would be months later, and it would be The Guys, the story about the FDNY firemen who died on 9/11 helping others starring Sigourney Weaver and Bill Murray and was written by Anne Nelson.)

Saturday morning arrived and we all met for breakfast in a coffee shop located in the basement under the World Trade Center and then spent some time shopping. If we’d kept the schedule as originally planned, we would have been in that basement when the planes hit.

Then we wanted to go to the top of the tower for a view of New York City, but it was closed due to fog.

We got to the airport in plenty of time for the 12:50 flight from Kennedy. In the restroom at the airport, I commented to Michelle that once I’d left the WTC area, I had stopped hemorrhaging and my bleeding was back to normal.

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