nmah5566.xml

nmah5566.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2003-07-10

I grew up in Coney Island and moved to Southern California in 1990. I happened to be in NY on September 11th. This was one of many return trips to my beloved city. My friend and neighbor had never been to NY so I took her with me. We planned to be down at the Liberty Island ferry dock at 8:15 on the morning of the 11th. Because it rained all day on Monday, September 10th I took Gail to Macy's and we spent the whole day shopping. She was too tired to get up in time to be at the statue's ferry by 8:15 so we slept in. Gail's husband called us right after the north tower was hit to see if we were okay. We watched the disaster unfold on the television. Because our hotel was on West 72nd Street near the park, we didn't hear anything from the actual site. I was too stunned to speak. Around noon we headed out and just wandered into the park and walked around with all the other stunned people. We ended up in Rockefeller Plaza which already had barricades set up. I saw Ed Koch being interviewed on the steps of St. Patrick's Cathedral. I thought it was ironic that in all my years living in NY, I had never seen him in person, and now here he was right in front of me. Seeing him somehow seemed reassuring, although I don't know why. I went to write my name in the cathedral's guest book and saw that I was the first to mention something about that fateful day. In the pews I saw people covered in white powder, and some of them were missing shoes. I wanted to help them somehow, but they seemed to be too much in shock yet to have someone approach them. I remember thinking they needed a little more time. I also remember seeing cabs go by with passengers who were openly sobbing. I couldn't absorb what was happening. I wanted to be home with my husband and twin boys who were eight years old then. I didn't know when or how I was going to get home. I remember that moment was the first time I was truly frightened by what was happening.

My life started changing the moment the towers were hit, and the change continues to this day. I don't regret being in NY when it happened because it is still my beloved city. I left NY on September 15th on my originally scheduled flight from JFK. From that day to this I still haven't found help for my terrible feelings about the event. I had a husband, two beautiful boys and an elderly father to take care of and their lives really haven't changed because of the event. I, on the other hand, go through each day pretending that all is well in order to keep things going here, while knowing in my heart that my city is changing because of the event and I'm not there changing with it. I feel that my city is slipping away from me because unless I'm there to know what the changes are, it will no longer be the home I remember. I wanted desperately to do something... serve food, move rubble, remove dust, anything, but instead I found myself doing the everyday things that seemed horribly trivial in comparison. I'm as lost today as I was then. I didn't really like the looks of the towers... they kind of reminded me of really boring Leggos, but they were still MY buildings and nobody had the right to take them from me. I watched them being built. I saw them every morning and evening when my train crossed the Manhattan Bridge. They were a part of my skyline and I took them for granted. Although they weren't a source of comfort when they were there - their absence now represent a terrible, terrible tragedy from which I hope to awaken but know I never will.

I think what should be remembered are the thousands who lost their lives that day in the most horrific, unspeakable way imaginable. I can't help thinking about the terror those people experienced being cooked alive up there, watching the tower next to them collapse, watching people fly past them as they jumped from higher floors, and not knowing which was worse, burning or falling, 2 of most people's worst fears. They should always be remembered for the sakes of their families and friends. We should remember the kindnesses and heroism, both big and small we all witnessed that day and keep it alive forever.

I didn't fly a flag afterwards because I didn't already own one and I didn't want to contribute to the money mongers who were cashing in on the tragedy. Of course I have much stronger feelings now for my flag than I ever did, mostly because I took my safety and security as an American citizen as a given. I realize now that my flag needs me as much as I need it. It represents to me kindness, love, strength, boldness, patience, safety and security. I pray it always will.