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On November 2, 2001, I visited Ground Zero. Initially, words could not convey the emotions I felt. Shortly after returning home, the vivid mental images started to manifest. Wanting to exorcise my pain and confusion, I took to paper. I could not help but repeatedly relive what was the most unsettling of all of my experiences at Ground Zero: The horrific fume that I was forced to breathe over and over again. I learned that the jagged mountain of twisted steel and ash bellowed vicious exhalations of burning gases containing asbestos, plastic, jet fuel, gypsum, human flesh, and anything else that could take to the air. Gypsum .. hmmm, such a pretty word but what was it and how did this fit into this scene. I later learned that the sheet-rocked walls of the two towers were made from the mineral, gypsum. Hence forth, my poem, The Gypsum Wind. Shortly thereafter, I put it to music. (I you would like to learn more about my experience with the mysterious bicycle email me) Words and Music JimDel Produced by JimDel and Bill Sperl JimDel - vocals and percussion Bill Sperl - guitar and keyboards Pete Scarlata - backing vocals and drums Greg Comparetto - acoustic guitar Bryan Russo - bass The Gypsum Wind (click here to download The Gypsum Wind MP3) We breathe in the gypsum wind Our hands are tired, faces grim I feel lost in the gypsum wind The water's cold but we have to swim We see all the gypsum The skies are dark, our hearts heavy In disbelief I can't begin The world has changed in the gypsum wind Inside I'm fighting, trying to realize Outside I'm crying, dying when I see the sky Legions of cars on hold They're frightened, cold No one to drive them home There's a bicycle tied to a pole She's all alone No one to ride her home I taste the grit in the gypsum wind While choirs cry, blind-color is our skin My throat burns in the gypsum wind We search for hope as the sands fall through the glass … We heal from the gypsum wind Dry our eyes, buff our iron chin We breathe our star-spangled hymn Heed our sighs we will rebuild Each night I'm crying, trying to see the light Each day I'm climbing, free-eagle flying - never denying the freedom fight We feed on the gypsum wind We feed on the gypsum wind … © 2001 JimDel |
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