'I believe my cancer is related to exposure to WTC dust and smoke.'
By Etta Sanders
The following opinion piece was written by Etta Sanders shortly before her death and was provided to the Trib by her husband, Andrew Weinstein.
I believe I am the victim of the lies of my government. I live a short distance from the World Trade Center site. Ten days after the Sept. 11 attacks, my husband, our twin boys who had turned 3-years-old on Sept. 8, and I moved back into our home.
For months, like so many of our neighbors, we worried about the air, kept our windows closed, ran air filters day and night, took the children out of the neighborhood to play outdoors and tried to believe what we were told—that the air was safe.
Two years ago I was diagnosed with stage IV, metastatic lung cancer. Inoperable. Incurable. Since then I have responded well to a series of treatments, chemotherapy and recently approved pills. I have been able to maintain a normal life—working, traveling, caring for my family. My condition has now worsened and the possible treatment options are running out.
I strongly believe my cancer is related to exposure to World Trade Center dust and smoke. If the government had said we’re not sure about the safety of the air and it would be prudent for residents to stay away, I don’t think I would have this cancer.
Now I will not see my beautiful boys grow up. No high school or college graduations, school trips, summer vacations, no weddings, no grandchildren. Mom won’t be there to cheer at piano recitals or ballgames. Mom won’t be there to comfort them after a hard day or a bad dream. I won’t grow old with my beloved husband, who has cared for all of us with remarkable strength. We have had almost 30 fabulous years together. I was hoping for 50 or 60.
I have kept quiet about my illness until now for a couple of reasons. One is that I am a mostly private person. I shied away from the idea of being talked about. The main reason was that we wanted to control what our children knew and how they were told. We were concerned that the more people who knew, the greater the chance someone would inadvertently say something frightening or inaccurate to them.
But I also know as a nearly 30-year resident of small town lower Manhattan, and after five years at P.S. 234, that our family is part of a warm, caring and supportive community. Andrew and I take great comfort and solace in that knowledge.
I am very grateful to Carl and April who have allowed me to contribute to what is simply the best community newspaper. I am constantly impressed by the high quality of the Trib. It is a treat to read it every month. They provide a true service to the community. I feel privileged to have been a part of it.
The truth is that I have had a wonderful and very lucky life, except for this bit here at the end.
I dearly hope that I am in a small minority of people who were so gravely harmed by the aftermath of the WTC attacks, but I fear otherwise. Whether the numbers are large or small, the U.S. government is culpable for that harm and there must be compensation for all victims and their families.
Frankly, I don’t know how Christine Todd Whitman lives with herself.
At a recent community board committee meeting, there was a presentation by someone from the World Trade Center Memorial Foundation. At the end, a board member asked if there would be room on the wall of victims’ names for those who died after the attacks from toxic exposures (a few days later the first such victim was added). It was a chilling thought. There will be more names.
But I think we need a separate wall for those whose deaths were not caused by a direct act of terrorism, but by the actions of a cavalier government.
http://www.tribecatrib.com/news/newsjuly07/etta2.htm
The following opinion piece was written by Etta Sanders shortly before her death and was provided to the Trib by her husband, Andrew Weinstein.
I believe I am the victim of the lies of my government. I live a short distance from the World Trade Center site. Ten days after the Sept. 11 attacks, my husband, our twin boys who had turned 3-years-old on Sept. 8, and I moved back into our home.
For months, like so many of our neighbors, we worried about the air, kept our windows closed, ran air filters day and night, took the children out of the neighborhood to play outdoors and tried to believe what we were told—that the air was safe.
Two years ago I was diagnosed with stage IV, metastatic lung cancer. Inoperable. Incurable. Since then I have responded well to a series of treatments, chemotherapy and recently approved pills. I have been able to maintain a normal life—working, traveling, caring for my family. My condition has now worsened and the possible treatment options are running out.
I strongly believe my cancer is related to exposure to World Trade Center dust and smoke. If the government had said we’re not sure about the safety of the air and it would be prudent for residents to stay away, I don’t think I would have this cancer.
Now I will not see my beautiful boys grow up. No high school or college graduations, school trips, summer vacations, no weddings, no grandchildren. Mom won’t be there to cheer at piano recitals or ballgames. Mom won’t be there to comfort them after a hard day or a bad dream. I won’t grow old with my beloved husband, who has cared for all of us with remarkable strength. We have had almost 30 fabulous years together. I was hoping for 50 or 60.
I have kept quiet about my illness until now for a couple of reasons. One is that I am a mostly private person. I shied away from the idea of being talked about. The main reason was that we wanted to control what our children knew and how they were told. We were concerned that the more people who knew, the greater the chance someone would inadvertently say something frightening or inaccurate to them.
But I also know as a nearly 30-year resident of small town lower Manhattan, and after five years at P.S. 234, that our family is part of a warm, caring and supportive community. Andrew and I take great comfort and solace in that knowledge.
I am very grateful to Carl and April who have allowed me to contribute to what is simply the best community newspaper. I am constantly impressed by the high quality of the Trib. It is a treat to read it every month. They provide a true service to the community. I feel privileged to have been a part of it.
The truth is that I have had a wonderful and very lucky life, except for this bit here at the end.
I dearly hope that I am in a small minority of people who were so gravely harmed by the aftermath of the WTC attacks, but I fear otherwise. Whether the numbers are large or small, the U.S. government is culpable for that harm and there must be compensation for all victims and their families.
Frankly, I don’t know how Christine Todd Whitman lives with herself.
At a recent community board committee meeting, there was a presentation by someone from the World Trade Center Memorial Foundation. At the end, a board member asked if there would be room on the wall of victims’ names for those who died after the attacks from toxic exposures (a few days later the first such victim was added). It was a chilling thought. There will be more names.
But I think we need a separate wall for those whose deaths were not caused by a direct act of terrorism, but by the actions of a cavalier government.
http://www.tribecatrib.com/news/newsjuly07/etta2.htm
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