This is a repost in memoriam of the events that took place four years ago today. It is the first in a three part series.
September 27, 2001
The Aftermath
The city feels empty. Streets that were once filled to capacity are now hollow. At the height of the afternoon rush hour I walk against the crowd that normally pushes me off the sidewalk and into the street along with the restless traffic. Now I walk with ease on the narrow strip of cement facing the somber faces that walk towards me intent on getting back to the safety of their homes.
Subway platforms that are normally full any time of day or night are eerily empty two weeks after the mass destruction of the twin towers. It is often purported that New York City has 8 million stories yet in a matter of minutes 6500 voices were silenced forever and an entire city feels lost and lonely. I miss those voices.
New Yorkers often complained about the noise and the crowds but if it weren¹t for the hustle and bustle of the city and the shared affinity of constantly being pressed up against a strange body it wouldn¹t have the same appeal. Now when someone openly laughs others stop to stare at them curiously. The sound of laughter that so often rang out on subway cars, parks and city streets has suddenly become a foreign sound.
There is a hush now that is occasionally pierced by the sound of sirens. In a city where sirens use to blend easily into the symphony of jackhammers, car horns, garbage trucks and Mr. Softee¹s melodies now they stand out loud and clear. Has something else happened we begin to wonder to ourselves. Our nerves get jittery when we hear loud noises or when the subway jerks to a sudden stop in the middle of a tunnel. We live in a constant state of fear that many of us as Americans have never known.
We try to stay in our communities and dread the thought of going to crowded places. I've never seen Times Square so empty. I do my best to avoid Grand Central Station that is now surrounded like a fortress by twenty-four hour police protection.
On just about every block and every firehouse there are makeshift memorials for those people who are still lost beneath thousands of tons of smoltering rubble. Smiling, happy, beautiful people who were simply trying to live the American Dream. All of their candles have since burned out but the hope of their loved one hasn't. Neither has mine although I know it is impossible to have survived two weeks with no food or water under those conditions. Yet I continue to hope for the sakes of their loved ones.
New York has been scarred in a way that goes deeper than the loss of two monolithic structures rising to the heavens. Our sense of freedom has been affected. Our sense of feeling safe enough to cross bridges and go down into tunnels that transport us throughout our metropolis has been compromised. We will heal in time but how long will it take? Many were lost but none shall ever be forgotten.
