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3:00 p.m., Saturday, September 29, 2001

I am proud of my city. And of my country.

Hundreds of Broadway performers filled Times Square and belted a rendition of "New York, New York" that could make anyone proud to be New Yorker. While some cynics derided the exhibition as a mere sales technique, the tears in the eyes of residents indicated that this was so much more -- a call to return to our way of life.

The Big Apple is no longer shiny, but it remains sweet. Last evening in SoHo, shoppers took Mayor Giuliani's advice and returned to the trendy shops and eateries. They moved more slowly, purchased more patriotic memorabilia on the streets before entering the storefront shops, but they shopped with a purpose: defiance -- the same defiance shown by the Broadway actors, singers, and dancers.

I am looking forward to exercising my defiance and doing my part as a New Yorker by trying once again to volunteer to help the rescue efforts, which I intend to attempt again on Monday. Maybe now, the lines of volunteers will have diminished enough to make room for someone who is not yet mentally and physically exhausted by the effort. The waiting has been torturous, but to those volunteers who scrambled before me and stood between me and my helping, I want to say that I am proud of you.

Last night I momentarily let it slip from my mind that I live in a restricted zone. I took my car out of the area, only to find that it was nearly impossible to get home. Canal Street, blocked by wide barricades and somber, overworked police officers, became the barrier between me and home. Only after nearly an hour, at least seven different intersections, countless police officers, eight pieces of identification, and a great deal of begging, pleading, explaining, and ID-showing, was I permitted to return home.

And to the officers who blockaded, frustrated and aggravated me, I want to say that I am proud of you, too.