DAY TWENTY:Sept. 30:
It's a cold Sunday, the city battered by strong winds blowing in from the icy north. The very high profile religiosity that marked last Sunday has yielded to introspection. Streets are nearly deserted, museums eerily empty. It seems that most New Yorkers consider this a stay-at-home day.
And no wonder. This morning's Sunday talk shows were full of doom and gloom. One top government official after another told us there is more to come, and a likely component of that "more" is bioterrorism.
Another reason for the shift from high profile religious services here in New York is the sudden preponderance of funerals. Now that the city is issueing death certificates, families are having their rituals. Mayor Giuliani attended four funerals on Saturday and half a dozen today. I can't imagine what that's like: one funeral a day is quite enough for anybody. The closest comparisons I can find are AIDS related. This atmosphere of endless grief recalls San Francisco during the mid-1980s and many African countries today.
Giuliani finally issued pleas yesterday to the families of immigrants, vowing that whether or not they are documented, legal, residents of the U.S. they can -- and must -- safely come forward and file missing persons reports. Some immigrant aid groups have begun following up on the plethora of multilingual Missing Persons signs posted all over the city, assuring families that it is safe to see the police and file forms -- forms that they swear will not be turned over to the Immigration authorities. Still, even the Mayor has acknowledged that we may never have a final body count, as nearly every company and shop in those buildings employed immigrants, most undocumented, who did the grunt work and thankless tasks that keep offices clean and operational.
The immigrants' plight is getting a lot less attention than the dire economics of Gotham's entertainment industry. Broadway shows are closing right and left, most major studios long since stopped filming in the city and even TV shows that are set in Manhattan have begun shooting in Toronto. So hundreds of actors are scrambling for work, cashing in their savings, and lobbying to bring tourists back to the Big Apple. The real troopers among them have been through this quite a bit over the last three years, having been on AFTRA strike for much of 2000, and nearly on Screen Actors Guild strike this year. So, most seem to have developed fall back systems of one kind or another, even if that means waiting tables or answering phones.
Of course there are also fewer tables to wait, as many restaurants have similarly fallen on hard times. As have hotels, clubs and music halls.
Carnegie Hall, however, was sold out last night. Hundreds of hearty souls braved the arduous transport nightmares to get to 57th St., and then submitted to unheard of security checks, including examination of their purses and cloches. They came to pay homage to Isaac Stern, whose death last week went almost unnoticed amid the crises of the day. In "normal" times Stern's passing would surely have been front page news in this town, not only because he was one of the most talented musicians to ever have put bow to strings, but because it was he who saved Carnegie Hall from bankruptcy and ruin. Because of Stern, Carnegie Hall is back to the stature it deserves, as the world's premier recital hall. The Orpheus Chamber Orchestra opened the evening by playing Elgar's "Elegy", in honor of those who perished in the World Trade Center catastrophe. After a previously scheduled program of Ravel and Martin, the orchestra performed Stern's signature piece, Beethoven's Violin Concerto. And in honor of his master, Itzhak Perlman performed with the orchestra, wrenching such emotion and heart from his violin that the audience insisted the poor man stagger out on his polio-ravaged legs for one bow after another. It was most certainly among the greatest performances of Perlman's career, and will undoubtedly rank in Carnegie Hall history as a true triumph.
It soothed my soul and made my heart sing.
And don't we all need some soothing and singing during these dark days?
Be well. Be safe. Stand defiant.
Laurie Garrett
