Here in Philadelphia, with terrible tragedies to the north and south, we're not quite sure what to think. It's never easy being the middle child -- especially not this time.
On most days, Philadelphians hang their heads a little when hearing their gritty city compared to New York or Washington. After all, the City of Brotherly Love is neither the global center of finance nor the heart of American government. But somehow, in the last few days, we feel more of an allegiance to our neighbors than ever.
Maybe it's because the grief that fills our air feels no less sincere than it possibly could along the West Side Highway or the National Mall. We may be 140 miles from Washington and 92 from New York, but on Tuesday, our connections to the ravaged cities made us feel a lot closer.
Last Thursday night at City Hall, hundreds gathered to hear comforting and patriotic words uttered by political and religious leaders.
Wet eyes, as well as hands clasped in prayer, filled the crowd. And when Gov. Tom Ridge spoke of America's spirit being reborn amidst tragedy, one man in the back of the crowd pumped his fist in the air in a show of solidarity.
Along Locust Walk, the mood was no less intense as students piled into memorial services and vigils -- some organized just hours after the attack.
"These events were not happening here in Philadelphia -- they were up the road in New York or down the road in Washington -- but it seemed that Penn was, in its own way, in the very epicenter of events," said English Professor Paul Hendrickson, who was en route to the University from Washington when the attacks occurred. "I was very impressed that it wasn't business as usual at Penn."
To many, such actions are only apropos, with so many Penn faculty, staff and students hailing from the affected cities, especially New York.
Those who have spent time in both Philadelphia and New York in the wake of last week's attacks have noted a different mood in Philadelphia. Asian and Middle Eastern Studies Professor Nili Gold described Philadelphia as an "island of sanity" caught between two cities engulfed in chaos.
"It's just a very disconcerting feeling -- in Philadelphia there's this atmosphere of vibrancy and life," said Gold, who commutes to Penn from her home in New York three times a week. "The mood on the street is so grim... and then I came to Penn this morning and it's not like reality. It's like a different world."
Those from Washington said that people there are trying to find similar calm.
"There were people tending their little flower gardens and kids coming home from school -- if you didn't have a radio to your ear, you could almost delude yourself that the world wasn't any different," Hendrickson said, describing a scene last week in a residential neighborhood near Capitol Hill.
And it has been noted that most cities seem to have softened their edge since the tragedies. These days in New York, even the cabbies are friendly.
Our city could not help but breathe a collective sigh of relief that it emerged unscathed.
The Liberty Bell, Independence Hall -- what better symbols of America's history and democracy? We will never know if the jet downed in western Pennsylvania might have been aimed at Philadelphia.
Even Penn, as one of the city's most important institutions, could have been painted with a large bull's-eye -- a fear that University administrators openly acknowledged the day of the attacks.
Philadelphians sometimes feel like their city is a mere stopover on the road from New York to Washington, but last week's attacks made us feel more vulnerable. If terrorists aim to strike important cities in the northeast, Philadelphia is certainly a possibility.
For some, having to watch Tuesday's horrors while away from home made them all the more difficult to bear. After growing up hearing tales of the Holocaust, Gold said that "all you heard were stories of people who were separated from their families -- never to be with them again."
"I had this vision -- I don't care if I die, I had to be with them," said Gold, who managed to catch the first train into New York on the evening of the tragedy.
But what binds all three cities -- and the nation -- together is a collective disbelief over what occurred. The thought of America's military prowess violated, of the World Trade Center's towers no longer shimmering in the night, chills the hearts of many.
"I think you'll find the most articulate people to be speechless at this time," Sociology Professor David Grazian said. "An event like this is nearly inexplicable."
