Michael Devine was a NYC police officer during 9/11

Bethesda Terrace, in the center of New York City’s Central Park, smells of wet stone, green grass, waterlilies and hope.

Bethesda Terrace Wikipedia Photo by Ed Yourdon

The focal point of the terrace is a prodigious bronze fountain featuring an 8-foot angel, her wings outstretched, her feet touching down on stone, cascading water into a larger pool beneath. Designed by Emma Stebbins and constructed during the Civil War, the statue—The Angel of the Waters—was inspired by a story from the Gospel of John about an angel who blessed the Pool of Bethesda, giving the water the power to heal. It’s my favorite place in New York City and I’ve often come here to clear my head, realign and focus on the present moment, smelling the world around me as I inhale, each breath a sign of life, of being alive.

9/11 Ground Zero September 13, 2001 Michael Devine©

If I was to measure life in calendar years rather than in moments (my preferred unit of measure), it’s been nine years since I wrote “Heart Notes,” a piece for CaFleureBon detailing the loss of my sense of smell following the months I worked as a New York City police officer at Ground Zero after the September 11, 2001 attacks.

 

NYPD Headquarters 2 days after 9/11 Michael Devine©

Since that story was published in 2012, roughly 180 colleagues and friends in the New York City Police Department have died from 9/11-related illnesses (mutations traceable and exclusive to Ground Zero), closing in on around 250 in total thus far with a similar toll on the FDNY.

9/11 Ground Zero September 13, 2001 “The Pile” Michael Devine©

In a much broader picture, according to a recent article in the New York Post, the number of cancer victims among Ground Zero responders and others who lived, worked or went to school near the World Trade Center has risen to 23,710, including 1,510 people who have died. The article further describes a third wave of death and disease is still to come. With this in mind, I determine the loss of my sense of smell is utterly inconsequential compared to the loss of life around me. The stakes have been raised. I feel as surrounded by death today as I did standing amid the wreckage of the Twin Towers. Moreover, I wonder every day if or when I’m next.

I look up at the Bethesda fountain which always makes me think of Tony Kushner’s play, Angels in America. As I reflect on the 20 years since September 11, 2001, I’m reminded of a merciless line from the play: “You’re a battered heart, bleeding life in the universe of wounds.”

9/11 Ground Zero September 13, 2001 Michael Devine©

In the years following the attack on the World Trade Center, I struggled with more than the loss of smell, I had full-on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Understanding the concept of staying in the present moment was the key to moving beyond PTSD. I remember talking to a friend about one particularly haunting and horrible sight I’d witnessed which replayed in my head for years, my mind and body ever-reactive to the replay. Her response, simple, logical, profound: “But that’s not happening now.” It finally clicked. If I stay present, the past—and subsequently the horrors of the past—cease to exist.

In that, I return to this moment and look up to the angel again and notice a sculpted lily in her hand. It has no scent, but I can smell it. Beneath her are four cherubs, each, I’ve learned, symbolize peace, health, purity and temperance. Again, I think of Angels in America, a seven-hour epic play which culminates in one final monologue in front of the Bethesda Fountain and therein one of its most famous lines: “The world only spins forward.”

Detective Luis Alvarez via Getty images /zach gibson©

For twenty years, the world has spun forward. It’s been a long time since the days we’d muster on the corner of Vesey Street and West Street at the northwest side of Ground Zero, waiting for our daily assignment. It would be a full week after the attack that we were issued respirator masks to help protect us from the air they told us was safe. It would be sixteen years until Detective Luis Alvarez from the NYPD Bomb Squad would be diagnosed with colorectal cancer and eighteen years before he’d testify in front of congress, advocating for victims’ rights relative to the then-dwindling World Trade Center Victims’ Compensation Fund. Shortly before his 69th chemo treatment and a few weeks before his death at 52, he pleaded to congress: “We were told the air was safe down there and it wasn’t. But you know what, that doesn’t matter. Because we would have gone in anyway. Because that’s what we do. It’s not a job for us. It’s a calling. Okay? And this is what happens.”

Michael with NYPD Detective George Moreno who recently passed away after losing his battle with multiple forms of 9/11 cancers© Michael Devine

Like I said, the stakes are higher now. Just over a month ago, a colleague, close friend and personal hero, George Moreno, lost his two-year battle with multiple forms of 9/11cancers. George, an NYPD detective, spent nine months after 9/11 working amid the toxic air. I thought George—who was once shot in the chest during an undercover operation—was indestructible. Sadly, I was wrong. On one of my final visits with George, he turned to me and said, “I’m not ready.” At 51, he left behind a wonderful wife and five children, including two-year-old Genevieve. George emblematized the NYPD’s motto, “Fidelis Ad Mortem,” that is, “Faithful Unto Death.”

photo of Michael Devine© Dave Cross Photography

I retired from the New York City Police Department last year. With each passing year I thought I’d seen everything; in 2020, I’d seen enough. Now I spend my days doing things I love with people I love, focused on family, art, health and gratitude. As much as I can, I try to stay in the present moment, as that’s all we ever have. The past and future are illusory. It helps to focus on the breath and again, as I breathe, I smell the world around me. It’s as elementary and essential as the old saying, “stop and smell the roses.”

Bethesda Terrace Wikipedia Photo by Ed Yourdon detail

We each have our own angels and demons and each of us who breathes has an obligation to embrace the gift of life. Focus on the angels. Stay present. Next time you’re smelling a perfume, a fine wine, rain on pavement, unripe fruit or nasty garbage, remember: to smell is to breathe. Let that breath fill you with life. As I look up again at the angel, I’m bestowed the blessing of perspective and I hear the echo of the final words from Angels in America, spoken to the audience: “I bless you: more life.”

Michael Devine, Contributor and Detective Sergeant NYPD

Please donate to Tunnel To Towers, which supports our nation’s heroes and their families Donate – Tunnel to Towers Foundation (t2t.org)

Heart Notes was a Fragrance Foundation Finalist of 2013, PLEASE READ Michael’s story of losing his sense of smell after 4 months of breathing toxic air; then slowly regaining it, and becoming a niche perfume collector.

Editor’s Note: Thank you Michael for your service, for your friendship and for reminding me to stay in the moment. To breathe.

“Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart   -Proverbs 27:9