There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t yet met. –William Butler Yeats

 I really enjoyed speaking with him.  But I didn’t know much about him.  Didn’t even know his name.  That would change after 9/11.

There are certain events you never forget.  You remember exactly where you were, exactly who you were with, the smells in the air, the angle of the sun, and every minute detail of the day.  Time stands still for these moments.  For me, that moment occurred on September 11, 2001 in New York City.

An impossibly blue sky. A sense of warmth and comfort.  An eerie silence.  Then the unnaturally low roar of a jet.  A fiery explosion.  And the sound of shattered glass.  The rest of the sights and sounds have been captured and replayed to horrified audiences across the globe.  New York City.  Washington, DC.  Shanksville, PA.  The world.  Forever changed.

But the long tail of September 11th truly snapped back for me two months later.  Just days before September 11th, my wife and I (along with our young son, Justin) moved from Battery Park out to the suburbs in New Jersey.  It seemed a natural progression for our lives, trading a downtown walk-up apartment for a yard and a white picket fence.

Even though we were freshly minted in the suburbs when September 11th struck, most of my personal services were still in the shadow of the World Trade Center.  Barber. Dry cleaning.  Shoeshine, etc.  On the latter point, just before Thanksgiving 2001, I had a meeting down near Ground Zero. I had some time to kill before my appointment and decided to go by the stand of my old shoeshine guy.  I hadn’t seen him since I joined the ranks of the bridge and tunnel club and hoped he was still there.

He was a cool guy.  Always upbeat.  And always had a smile and story.  But when I saw him from about 10 yards away, even I was taken aback by his exuberance!  He ran up to me and lifted me off the ground.

“My man!  I hadn’t seen you since that terrible day.  I thought you were dead!”

I was shocked.  What?

“I remember you well.  All my customers.  I don’t know their names.  When I don’t see them, I think the worst!”

And then it hit me. I had seen him once a week for a year before moving out to the ‘burbs.  I heard about his kids.  He heard about my wife and son.  We weren’t friends, necessarily.  But we had a connection.  He knew I lived near the World Trade Center.  And when he didn’t see me for two months, he naturally thought he would never see me again.

It was a great moment.  But it wasn’t isolated.  Similar stories played out all over Lower Manhattan in the aftermath of September 11th.  Turns out, we are a lot more connected than we think!

Every Relationship Makes a Difference

We all have our inner circle of friends and family who offer advice, inject us with strength, and restore our resilience in difficult times.  They are treasures and we simply could not make it without them.  But what about the tangential relationships that touch our lives?

The neighbor who smiles and waves every morning when we walk the dog.  The co-worker from another department who helps us out with an issue.  The cheerful “friend of a friend” we always run into at the grocery store.  The bartender who knows exactly what we like to drink.  The hairdresser who always asks about our kids.  They are not a part of our everyday lives.  In some cases, we may not even know their names.  But they have an understated impact and influence on our lives.

Melinda Blau and Karen Fingerman coined the term “consequential strangers” to describe such people.  And these loose connections are even more powerful during a pandemic.  At a time when our reservoirs of resilience are running low, it doesn’t take much to fill them back up.  Every bit of comfort helps in this environment, so why not take some time to appreciate these relationships?

Resilience Takes a Village

Now I’m not suggesting we all need to wear name tags and run around hugging the consequential strangers in our lives.  But we should not discount the positive impact they have on our attitude.  We cannot take them for granted.  And we should also remember that we are the consequential strangers in other people’s lives.  Let’s try to make their lives a little bit better as well.  Let’s help them stay resilient!

Who are the consequential strangers in your life?  Take a moment to think about them and appreciate them.

And now back to 9/11.

“My name’s Rob, by the way,” I said with a smile.

“I’m, Larry, man.  It’s damn good to see you again.”

And with that, we both got a little choked up.  Two consequential strangers, each appreciating the randomness of loose connections.  Each happy to see each other again.  Each happy the other person, albeit briefly, made a positive impact on their life.