GROUND ZERO, New York City, Feb. 20--It's dark and scary in New York City.   Our side of the street is void of any lights.   A manhole cover blew.   The wires fried.   Terror rules.

      We have just returned to the city from being snowed in for five days near the Elk River in Maryland.   During those days, there was a sheet of sparkling white snow covering the earth--more than 28 inches of it.
        It was a pristine sight--the ice in the Elk River flowing south and north as the tides changed, two bald eagles roosting in a tree near the water's edge, squirrels scampering in the snow, Canadian Geese honking overhead as they flew in "V"-shaped wedges, and the cries of coyotes at night as they stalked and sang their joy of the hunt.
       Inside the farmhouse where we stayed with 16 other family members ranging from ages almost eight-months to the early seventies, it was warm and cozy.  A fireplace crackled and the smell of cakes or brownies baking wafted through the air.  Children laughed and played, adults chatted, and the halls were filled with snow boots, jackets and mittens.

         It was a far cry from a dark New York City apartment whose stairs were lighted by the eerie glow of iridescent green light-sticks and outside the growling of a Con-Ed truck's engines could be heard as workers feverishly crawled through the bowels of the city's underground to repair the damage that turned light into dark, warmth into an icy chill.
     

Feb 19.--Soggy Terrorism Pits People's Vigilance