whitty a la city

Green: grass, growth, money
Blue: sky, melancholy, wisdom
Yellow: school bus, sunshine, joy
Orange: Pumpkin, tropics, creativity
Red: Princes' corvette, blood, passion
Black: black widow, mourning, power
White: light, goodness, perfection

We associate color with nearly everything day to day, culturally and emotionally. What we wear can speak volumes, without saying a word. The French wear black because its fashionable and flattering- the staple norm with no more significance than what they ate (or didn't eat) for breakfast. The Kalash women in Pakistan have worn black for centuries, in honor of the "black prince." In Portugal when women wear black, it means they have lost the person nearest and dearest to their heart, and they continue to wear black daily until they are reunited. Several cultures follow this custom... in general, widows wear black to signify mourning.

Today is Father's Day. Today was an unforgettable day. Did I have an amazing time with my Pops? Unfortunately no. There were actually no fathers involved. Just an extraordinary group of women. Women who lost their husbands in the September 11th attack, and the children whom they were pregnant with during that horrific time, ten years ago. The children who will only meet their father in photographs and in stories.

Robert Cumin's photograph

In 2001, the magazine featured 33 women who lost their husbands on 9/11, and gave birth soon after. In 2003, another story featured 41 women, many of which returned from the year before. In 2006 there was a much more intimate piece that featured several of these women at home, depicting how they were getting on with their lives as single mothers. This year is the tenth anniversary of 9/11, and today we had a photo shoot with ten widowed mothers. Most have found love, built new families and moved on with their lives. But not without a daily reminder. The most precious gift their dearly departed could have left them with: a child.

The mood in the Greenwich Village studio was considerably upbeat. Pro stylists primped the women and kids while an extremely well-known photographer and his team prepped. The women wore black, not only signifying mourning and loss, but more importantly power and strength. They deserve medals of honor and bravery just as much as their husbands who were on a plane, in Tower 2 or fighting fires.

The children wore white. They looked like angels standing solo in front of the concrete wall, holding mementos and beaming with pride- extremely touching coming from a ten year old. One little girl cradled a locket with her Dad's photo, a permanent fixture around her neck. Another hugged a fire fighter helmet, while boy wore his father's badges and medals of honor, appointed by the President. Looking on through the somber space while mothers wiped bittersweet tears away, was indescribably moving.

Photo by Erica Berger

 One of the women, Jackie came all the way from San Antonio with her three kids. In the photo above from the mag's first photo shoot, she holds Ronald Jr., who is now a tall, energetic ten year old. She and her husband both served and met in Korea at a military party. They both worked in the Pentagon at the time, but she was on the opposite side of the building when American flight 77 hit. Today the newest member of her family, John, was the most popular man in the room. The ladies couldn't keep their hands off of him!

 Later this afternoon, I sat under a tree in Riverside Park overlooking the Hudson to reflect on my day. I looked down the hill and saw a group of women and children having a picnic. There were no men. Perhaps none of them were married, or all of their husbands were out of town coincidentally. But I don't think so. Though not in their own making, it was a sisterhood, and it was powerful to witness. I realized how much so many lost on that catastrophic day. Not only were their sons and uncles and brothers lost, but wives and cousins and grandmothers and friends. It demonstrated life's fragility and provides a constant reminder to never take people for granted. Make sure you tell the people you love how much you love them. And often. It's never too late until it is too late.

Happy Father's Day to all you Papa Bears out there, mine especially. I love you dearly and am so, so fortunate and blessed. To those who have lost loved ones, especially your Dad, hold them near and dear in your heart and know you are loved.

Nap time with Dad, 1984