In the midst of the maelstrom surrounding what I believe is an ill-advised plan to construct a mosque barely yards from the footprint of what were the Twin Towers, please read “The Empty Pillow,” written 12/10/01.
THE EMPTY PILLOW
November 16, 2001 — Graham and Paulette, our son and daughter-in-law, boarded a flight from Kennedy bound for San Francisco and then on to Hawaii, a long-planned trip, compliments of his firm for winning a sales contest. They were celebrating the birth of their second son Bradley born on August 2, 2001.
September 11th and the obvious thoughts about flying and traveling a long distance went through our minds.
Two year-old Graham Jr. came to us, Bradley stayed with Paulette’s parents. Murphy the chocolate Lab and Polly the cat stayed in place to guard their house, to be watered and fed by two sets of doting grandparents.
What a joy Graham Jr. is. He sleeps downstairs with wife Dorothy, his “white-haired Nana,” while I am banished to our bedroom upstairs, sharing the bed with Rosie, our 4 year old “Heinz 57” rescue mutt, and one or both of our cats, Charlie and Willie. It’s a movable feast. The four-leggeds roam freely, occupying whichever bed suits them. They’re welcome up or down.
Six days into the visit, Graham becomes homesick.
“Mommy, Daddy, Murphy, Polly,” he sobs. “Dear, why not bring Murphy over for a visit? What a great time for “Camp Night,” a sleepover in our king-sized bed. My wife Dorothy agrees reluctantly.
Time for bed, Graham is in heaven. The line-up by pillow: white-haired Nana; little G, in the middle; then Poppy. Further down on the bed, Murphy and Rosie curled up in a ball.
Lights out! We all fall asleep quickly. Shortly after midnight, Charlie the cat bounds through the upstairs window completely oblivious to the presence of Murphy, sleeping peacefully snuggled next to Graham. Then, Pandemonium!
Rosie chases Charlie. Murphy chases Rosie. Barking, meowing — scampering cats and dogs. Dorothy groans, Graham squeals. Poppy unleashes a string of invective. Nana shushes Poppy. Charlie escapes. Now the lights are on. Graham is laughing uncontrollably. One by one the lights go out. Dogs slink back to their original places and we all drift off again.
Parenting experts may frown on such communal gatherings. Experts be damned. We’ve exercised our grand-parental prerogatives. Of such occasions, dreams and memories are made.
The next morning, a little fist reaches out and gently taps my cheek. The dogs are again sleeping soundly. Dorothy is still out. Charlie has assumed a place on her pillow. A wonderful feeling comes over me. How secure and peaceful we all are.
The chilling reality sets in. Thousands of kids, just like little G, will never or never again experience these same feelings.
The image of an empty pillow won’t leave my mind. My thoughts turn back to September 11. Why? Why? Why?
George S.K. Rider
Red Rider's Ramblings: Rants, reminiscences and repartee from a 91+ year-old rookie writer 
George: Your article is MOST appropriate! All Americans and especially New Yorkers should be both embarrassed and furious about the prospect of a Moslem temple so close to Ground Zero.
Are our memories so short? What are our troops dying for?
I would challenge those organizations who banded together to save Grand Central Station and other historic sites to turn their attention to prohibiting this structure. Moslems certainly are entitled to their temples but to build one so close to the biggest attack on the U.S since Pearl Harbor is an affront and a direct insult to all Americans who were affected by the events of 9/11.
Keep your articles comeing. I love them.
Joan Lasley