Seven candles flickered on the altar behind Msgr. Robert M. O'Connell as he prayed for the six people killed in the World Trade Center bombing a year ago today, one for each of the dead, and one extra for the baby in Monica Smith's body who was never born.
The monsignor, offering a special Mass yesterday at the Roman Catholic Church of St. Peter, near the trade center, prayed for healing and peace for the survivors of the explosion that also left hundreds of people injured and uncounted numbers of Americans wondering if their lives could ever be the same.
Yet when the last prayer was said in the stately old downtown church, at 1610 Barclay Street, between Broadway and Church Street, survivors of that terrible day wondered if a lifetime on their knees would heal the anger that they feel over the deaths of Mrs. Smith, her unborn child and the five others.
Survivors of the bombing wept in the pews as Monsignor O'Connell and Gov. Mario M. Cuomo read the names of Mrs. Smith, William Macko, John DiGiovanni, Robert Kirkpatrick, Stephen Knapp and Wilfredo Mercado.
"No, it is not true, this axiom: Out of sight, out of mind," the monsignor said.
"That does not apply to people you love."
He prayed for a closing of the wound left by the fear and hatred over the murder of innocents and prayed for the impact of the bombing to turn those affected closer to God.
But no one prayed to forget, because that would be asking too much.
"I don't think you can live long enough to ever free yourself from this," said Molly Robinson, who was working in the administrative office of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey when the bomb exploded.
The families of the dead filled three rows. One woman, hurt in the blast, prayed from her wheelchair. Others came leaning on crutches, canes and each other.
'It Was Beautiful'
Linda Movtady, a secretary in an office on the 35th floor, came looking for some kind of peace, some resolution so that she could finally lay it all to rest. "It was beautiful," she said of the Mass, but like so many others, she is not ready yet to forgive.
"There is still so much anger," she said.
The real closure, some said, will come only when the people who murdered their friends and co-workers with a truckload of explosives are punished.
"We just hope that, in the end, justice will be served," said Eddie Smith, who lost his wife and unborn child.
But maybe, several others said, peace would not come even then.
Vito Deleo, partly deafened by the blast, said he will never forget and might never forgive.
"You see people walking into this church on crutches," said Mr. Deleo, who was 150 feet from the van when it exploded. "It could very easily have been my wife sitting up there on the front row" with the other family members of the victims.
One of the victims, William Macko, was a friend of Mr. Deleo's. Like others linked to the explosion, Mr. Deleo has followed the trial of the men accused in the bombing. It amazes him that they seem so calm.
"You see no remorse," he said.
The bombing altered forever the sense of insulation that New York City and the United States feel from terrorism, Governor Cuomo said.
"A year ago," Mr. Cuomo said, "a bomb tore a huge hole in the World Trade Center, and in our hearts as well. We learned some practical lessons on how to make the city safer. But in the end we were left with an uneasiness that will linger for a long time to come."
What people must do, he said, "is fill the bitter hollow in our hearts with the milk and honey of happier memories."
But as Mr. Cuomo and others talked about healing, the legacy of the bombing was all too obvious. The church was surround by police officers.
"Those who were around the trade center that day," Monsignor O'Connell said, "will never forget it."
