The only thing that ever helped me were the little individual tributes. Roses on street corners, an unexpected band playing a horn serenade when I came out of the subway at dusk, postcards on a fence, and a friend going around with a tape recorder trying to record Mike Ford's 110 Stories with authentic New York street noise in the background by holding the recorder up to the faces of people unexpectedly and asking them to speak a line the way they would talk to a friend.

All our dead are hallowed, that these dead have been held up as martyrs so much and for so long can't be healthy for their families or by extension, the public that is forced to watch their mourning process. I'm with you, let the dead rest, and let's focus on bringing the living back to life.