14 years
Once again we arrive at that solemn date, September 11.
Fourteen years ago an ordinary Tuesday turned into a nightmare, a day of horrors, a day that showed our strength to unite in the face of adversity.
9/11 happened to all of us, in NYC and California and everything in between. But someone standing on the corner of Vesey Street and Church Street experienced 9/11 in a very different way than someone watching the events on TV. And I will be forever grateful that I had an "on the outside looking in" experience, safe in my Long Island office that day, watching the streets that were oh-so-familiar turn into a war zone.
14 years later, lower Manhattan has risen like a phoenix from the ashes. It is a thriving community, a pleasant place for the people who live there, work there, visit.
We visited the museum last year. It was the first time that I visited a museum that focused on events I lived through, events I could remember in aching detail. I cried. What set me off were the little things, the ordinary things, like fare cards for the PATH train.
I know my thoughts are scattered today, this post is wandering about without coherence.
But I'll leave you with my best 9/11 memory.
9/21/01. Shea Stadium. Baseball games had been suspended in the aftermath of the attacks, but resumed that night. The Mets wore the caps of NYC first responders, police and fire department members were on the field, Liza Minnelli sang "New York, New York." And then, in the bottom of the 8th, Mike Piazza hit a home run, and the Mets went on to beat the Braves 3-2. The cheering in Shea that night ...
So let me leave you with that moment:
Fourteen years ago an ordinary Tuesday turned into a nightmare, a day of horrors, a day that showed our strength to unite in the face of adversity.
9/11 happened to all of us, in NYC and California and everything in between. But someone standing on the corner of Vesey Street and Church Street experienced 9/11 in a very different way than someone watching the events on TV. And I will be forever grateful that I had an "on the outside looking in" experience, safe in my Long Island office that day, watching the streets that were oh-so-familiar turn into a war zone.
14 years later, lower Manhattan has risen like a phoenix from the ashes. It is a thriving community, a pleasant place for the people who live there, work there, visit.
We visited the museum last year. It was the first time that I visited a museum that focused on events I lived through, events I could remember in aching detail. I cried. What set me off were the little things, the ordinary things, like fare cards for the PATH train.
I know my thoughts are scattered today, this post is wandering about without coherence.
But I'll leave you with my best 9/11 memory.
9/21/01. Shea Stadium. Baseball games had been suspended in the aftermath of the attacks, but resumed that night. The Mets wore the caps of NYC first responders, police and fire department members were on the field, Liza Minnelli sang "New York, New York." And then, in the bottom of the 8th, Mike Piazza hit a home run, and the Mets went on to beat the Braves 3-2. The cheering in Shea that night ...
So let me leave you with that moment:
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