Extremely Missing Oskar Schell

The summer of of 2001 was one of the best of my life. I moved to New York for a summer internship. Young and adventurous, I was out late with friends every night exploring the city, working hard each day designing for fancy retailers and met my husband somewhere along the way. One night some friends had decided to go dancing at the top of the World Trade Center. I got stuck working late for one of those fancy retailers and got to the Trade Centers well after closing. I pressed my hands to the huge glass doors and peered inside in hopes of finding some kind soul who would let me in. A slender gentleman guard smiled as he saw me there, opened the door and said, "Girl, what are you doin' down here by yourself this time of night?" After teasing me and my promising cookies and such, he escorted me to the elevators. I spent the night dancing with my friends (and a huge drag queen party). It was awesome.

Less than a month later the towers fell and I often thought of that guard to whom I still owe cookies. Was he there that morning? Did he live to tell? Were his family members searching for him or was he searching for friends and co-workers? It is funny to say that I am part of a nation in mourning when truly the loss isn't mine to mourn. I didn't lose a friend, a family member or sweet heart but I mourn for the real Oskar Schells who are trying still, years later, to make sense of it all.

Last summer I finally read Jonathan Safran Foer's book, "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." The narrator and main character, and he is indeed a character, Oskar Schell is a nine year old who lost his father in 9-11. I don't know whether I loved the book or just Oskar Schell. I guess they are one in the same. Oskar Schell, an unpopular, creative, quirky, lovable little boy IS the book. The happenings are secondary to his musings and "inventing." As I read the book I looked forward not to what would happen next but to spending more time with Oskar. In the book this funny boy befriends many a stranger in his quest to deal with the loss of his father and understand his remaining family. You, the reader, are somehow befriended as well. Months later I am still missing Oskar and his daily companionship. I wish I were Ashley Black, who lived in one of the 5 boroughs, so I could get a personal visit from Oskar, treat him to milk and cookies after he invites himself in and analyzes my pictures. If you haven't been befriended by Oscar, you are missing out.

I miss this fictional character and reading about his experience makes my heart goes out to those who are mourning real losses on this anniversary. Especially the children who lost their parents and are still and may always be trying to cope and understand the tragedy. My heart goes out to you.