It has long been the case that the goings-on in tiny tea shops in Queens, barbershops in Manhattan, temples of worship in Brooklyn, and yes, apartment buildings in the Bronx have reverberated to every corner of the globe. This is not just because New York City is a cultural and economic capital, but because it contains in every corner slices of that vast and wonderful world that lies beyond it.
Today, the horror that is deeply felt throughout New York in the face of Sunday's deadly high-rise fire in the Bronx extends a long tendril into the west African nation of Gambia, from where most of the 17 dead hailed.
This city has been called a melting pot and mosaic; it is really a glorious, ever-expanding, intricately interwoven tapestry.
The smoke has cut this journey short for these victims; there must be meticulous investigation into what went wrong. It has not cut the journey short for this community, with whom we will grieve and demand answers, and with whom we will stand as it moves forward, battered but resolute. Their wounds are our wounds just as their drive is our drive.