I wish I could simply scoop them out of the water, with my bare hands.

A meditation on the South Korea Ferry tragedy.

I’ve been watching the news. Saw the “dive” footage with murky water and more mysteries than answers– a vague silhouette of an arm. I have read the final text messages of students, and seen interviews with distraught parents and relatives. I imagine myself floating for hours, days, treading cold water inside of a pitch-black air pocket, waiting to wake up from the nightmare.

Train conductors, pilots, captains, these positions are more than titles, they hold in their hands the lives of hundreds or thousands of people each day. I wish that I could be of some help, but know that I am helpless. I cannot dive, I cannot speak the language, I have no submarine, and cannot control the weather. So instead I’ll join with all the others’ prayers, from Brooklyn, and share in the bafflement and mourning of our fellow human beings.