Entering the building was very difficult emotionally, because the entire building (the size of a city block) was covered with missing persons posters. Thousands of posters, spread out up to eight feet above the ground, each featuring a different, smiling, face.

I made my way into the huge central room and found my Juilliard buddies. For two hours we sight-read quartets (with only three people!), and I don't think I will forget the grief counselor from the Connecticut State Police who listened the entire time, or the woman who listened only to "Memory" from the play "Cats," crying the whole time.

At 7 p.m., the other two players had to leave; they had been playing at the Armory for six hours and simply couldn't play any more. I volunteered to stay and play solo, since I had just gotten there.

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