I watched the attacks on the news, and then like an idiot (or a particular type of NYC woman) I went to work in 4" heels anyway. I walked home in Dearfoam slippers. Those are some well made slippers!
You used to be able to have a straight shot view from Columbus Circle straight downtown and you could see the towers. Then, they were gone. My cousin lived a block away. Her biggest fear in the world had always been planes falling from the sky. She was there having just dropped her two kids off at school. She grabbed them and another friends child and ran them all back to the "safe" line above Houston.
I think of the fire stations within walking distance of my apartment, the one near me lost one firefighter; the station at Lincoln Center was virtually wiped out; the station on West 58th Street lost several; the station in mid-town that is the pride of Broadway was nearly wiped out. These stations are close enough that the time difference between them was 10-20 seconds.
For weeks I could not cross Fifth Avenue to get to work without having to stop for the parades of firetrucks on their way to funerals at St. Patricks. Each one of those parades broke my heart.
Tanks on Fifth Avenue definitely rank as a sight I never wanted to see.
I grew up in California. I'm used to the occasional fighter jet flyover. I'm used to search helicopters and their very probing floodlights. I was not used to those things here in New York City.
I volunteer with New York City Ballet. That year the Company gave a special performace of Nutcracker for the families of the responders and those families who had lost someone. The volunteers acted as ushers that night along with other jobs since the performance was a night when the Company did not usually dance. Nearly every single audience member thanked each of us. Nearly every single volunteer was in tears thanking them.
I pray that our troops are safe but at the same time, I want them home, with their own families.
Sorry for rambling.