From an email from Karen, New York City:

YES, I am fine. As much as anyone in this horrorhouse of events can be. I only just went online tonite (Mon. 17th). I got your phone message today. My phone is off more than it's on. Keeps crashing. I can get messages more easily than I can return them. I spent all of Tues. afternoon giving out water and towels to the streaming masses fleeing from downtown. I set up by the police barricade on Broadway and Houston with a grocery cart the deli let me have and 13 gallons of water. Gave out about 250 cups and a lot of dusty, sweaty hugs. Even the police came up and sipped and seemed equally in shock. One young cop babbled on about having been sent there after picking up body parts in Battery Park and tagging them. The entire week has retained a certain surreality to it; I am reminded of Picasso's Guernica.

My office was hard hit. We have no power, no water, no phones, no lights, a lot of claycolored dust all about. But that seems so immaterial in view of the human casualties. We lost many patients, many friends. Our last patient Monday night was a very handsome, young, new father, crowing about his 2-month old daughter. He worked for Cantor-Fitzgerald.