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Though now living in the Pacific Northwest, I am originally from New Jersey and grew up in a bedroom community outside of New York City. When the twin towers came down on September 11, 2001, and I found out that a classmate of mine had died in that tragedy, my heart cried deeply and pulled me to organize a group of clowns to go bring whatever hope we could. Most of the clowns I contacted to join me were all very leery of such an endeavor, but my heart was calling me to go. A clown, who I had met while clowning in China, lived in NJ. She emailed me to say she lived close to the city and she could sleep nine in her home. In November, just 2 months after the towers fell, nine clowns flew in from all over the country to join up with “Happy” and some of her clown friends in NJ. “Happy” was even able to find a small school bus to take the 14 of us clowns into the City. Scared, worried, but with expectant hope and love in our hearts, a parking space was waiting for us across the street from Ninos, a very small, hole-in-the-wall deli, which had opened their doors to feed firefighters and rescue workers round the clock. With numerous police officers to each and every block, we weren’t sure if we would be allowed off the bus, never mind to even park it on Canal Street, not too far from Ground Zero. We were met by an officer whose face lit up when the doors of the bus opened. “Clowns! Clowns! You have no idea how much we need you. You can park your bus here all day if you want!” We did…and off we went to give red sponge noses to everyone we met on the streets, at every fire station we visited and every restaurant we went into where rescue workers were taking breaks.

I had brought along my clown trombone, which is a toilet plunger wrapped with colorful tape with a toilet brush for the slide and a kazoo taped on the end. Whenever we gave someone a red nose, all the clowns would gather round and I’d give them a note to begin and the clowns would begin to sing as the “trombone played”, “Getting to “nose” you, getting to “nose” all about you…. that’s all we “nose”. Take the plunge and have some fun!” Without fail, we always got a laugh and a smile.

One of our clowns took a picture of two Port Authority Police Officers on Broadway, across the street from St. Paul’s Chapel, where the Memorial Wall was established. Both had their red noses on with their hands up as if to say: “OK, you caught us…red nosed!”

One of the officers, who called himself Uncle Mikiy had been on the force for almost 25 years and close to retirement. He told us he was on duty in the Towers on September 11 when the first plane hit. He immediately started guiding people out. He went out and in, out and in several times bringing people out and he became absolutely exhausted. He said he had to take a break, so he went across the street, leaned up against a building and lit up a cigarette. Just as he did…the first tower came down. “I know cigarettes are suppose to kill you, but in this case, they saved my life.” This story doesn’t end here. Three months later, some of the NJ clowns decided to go back into the city to do the same clown activities we had done previously, visiting fire stations, etc. One of the clowns remembered the precinct where Uncle Mikey had said he worked. The clowns went off to find it and just by chance hoped Uncle Mikey would be there. They found the precinct and Uncle Mikey just happened to be on duty that day out in the field. He was radioed to come in. When Uncle Mikey came into the precinct and saw the clowns, he reached into his pocket and took out his red sponge nose, the same one the clowns had given him 3 months earlier. It looked as if it needed to be replaced, but he didn’t want another one. He went on to say: “I don’t go anywhere without this nose. It’s my daily reminder that life is too short, and I have to lighten up.”

On the third day of clowning on Broadway and around Ground Zero, “OOCHEE” ran into a woman who introduced herself as a reporter from the LA Times and asked if she could interview her. The reporter’s first question to me was stated in a very critical, cynical tone of voice: “What are you clowns doing here at Ground Zero?” “What do you think we’re doing here?” I responded. “I’m asking you the questions, remember?” responded the reporter. Just then an older woman came up to “OOCHEE”, put her hand on my arm, looked into my eyes and compassionately said: “Thank you, thank you so much for being here.” Immediately, the reporter turned to her and asked: “What do you think of when you see these clowns here at Ground Zero?” Without missing a beat, the older woman responded, “Happiness. I live here in the City and lost 2 of my very best friends in this tragedy. This is the first time I’ve had the emotional energy to come down to see where they died. But when I see these clowns here, I think of happiness and hope.” “OOCHEE” turned to the reporter, “There’s your answer. I think this interview is over.”

For fees and scheduling contact:

Maureen Mould, MS
509-452-2296
inspire@maureenmould.org

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