Enormity of tragedy leaves little room for small talk
by Beth Teitell

Thursday, September 20, 2001

Before Tuesday night's Red Sox-Devil Rays game, the players lined the base lines, bowed their heads and observed a moment of silence to honor the victims of last week's terrorist attacks.

The tribute was a ritualized way for the athletes to pay their respects before going on with their business. Watching, I wondered how we, regular people, do the same.

How do we go on with our business - professional and personal - while acknowledging the tragedy and honoring those who lost their lives and loved ones?

Do you bring it up if you're talking to someone you haven't spoken to since Sept. 11? And if so, how? Do you say something general, like ``tough week'' or ``scary times''? Do you ask the frightening question: Did you know anyone? Or do you pretend everything is normal?

As one of my colleagues asked after getting multiple pitches from a publicist without so much as a mention of the devastation: ``Is she really shallow, or really professional?''

``It feels strange to discuss something so emotional with a virtual stranger,'' said a businesswoman who has called on clients since Sept. 11, ``but it also feels strange not to.''

Even as life returns to normal - as sports and Broadway and the stock market resume - the businesswoman said making a sales call still feels crass. ``You don't know what the person on the other end of the line might be going through,'' she said.

During the weekend, I ran into a neighbor I hadn't seen in a while. ``Hi,'' I said, ``how are you?''

``Good,'' she replied, out of habit, like we all used to. Then she added: ``Well, relatively.''

We both shook our heads. But where do we go from there? Should we talk about our children, like we usually do? Exchange pleasantries about the weather? How do you start a serious conversation, I wondered, with someone with whom you usually just banter?

``I have a hard time not bringing it up,'' a woman told me. ``But when I do, I feel like I'm just repeating what everyone else already knows. We're all watching the same TV shows and reading the same stories.''

She didn't lose anyone in the attacks, she said. ``So I don't want to act like I'm making the tragedy my own, but it's on my mind.''

She had book group Tuesday night, and before discussing the John Adams biography they'd read, the members had questions that had to be asked and answered. The first - where were you when you found out? - is familiar from past tragedies, from President Kennedy's assassination, the Challenger explosion. What's different this time are the subsequent questions: Did you know anyone? Did you know anyone who knew anyone?

As the tragedy goes into its second week and frightening news about war and other plots continues to fill the papers, people are checking on each other in a way most Americans alive today might not have experienced.

``How are you doing this week?,'' a TV producer told me she asks co-workers she hasn't seen in a few days.

``I still feel like it's that fresh,'' she said. ``I think getting back to `normal' is talking about it. Otherwise it's like the big elephant in the room.''