This was originally printed in The Pulse-Chattanooga's Alternative Weekly Newspaper, on September 11, 2006.
When I watched the attacks on the World Trade Center on TV in Atlanta, I cried and worried for my friends and coworkers who were living and working in the city. I also had no idea that one year later, September 11, 2002, I would be watching as firefighters and police officers lined the streets surrounding my new apartment on Greenwich Street in Lower Manhattan, less than 200 yards from Ground Zero, preparing for the ceremony to begin just blocks away.
I thought I had prepared myself for what I was about to witness that day, having just moved to New York on Labor Day. I knew that I was about to see New York City as it remembered the most horrific day in its existence, if not the entire country's, and watch as the people of the city paid homage to their fallen heroes, brothers, and sisters, while hopefully healing, if just a little bit.
The first person I came across that day was our doorman, Tommy, who was almost catatonic as he stared straight up into the sky, looking beyond the top of the Banker's Trust building across the street, exactly where the Towers would have appeared if they were still there. I asked him if he was okay. He turned and looked at me with tears welling up in his eyes and just said that he didn't know if he was going to make it through the day. He also said that this was exactly where he stood one year ago when it all happened, right here on this stoop. Fighting back the tears, Tommy gave me his account of what he saw in all its terrible details. When he was through, I wished him luck and gave him a hug. But before I left, Tommy told me that I needed to carry a copy of my lease as the Secret Service Agents would not allow me back on this block without it. So I ran back upstairs, grabbed my lease, and took off to explore the city a bit.
There were memorials set up everywhere, on the sidewalks and in store windows. It was eerie in that it was still New York City—people were moving along—but there was a sense of everyone wearing their emotions on their sleeves. No matter where you walked, you were reminded of what had happened and how everyone was affected. It was also extremely windy. While in Soho, the gusts got so bad that people were ducking into hallways and store entrances to escape them. To top it off, the sky was an odd pinkish color. I actually read a poem someone wrote in a local newspaper about how the conditions that day were actually the spirits of those people that passed just letting us know they were around.
Having been emotionally overwhelmed for the majority of the day, I called my wife late that afternoon and asked he if she would like to attend the Yankees game that night. I thought it would be a nice escape from all of the craziness. But the emotions inside the stadium were just as somber, if not more, than what I had already experienced.
Everyone was there for a pick-me-up. We watched as they dedicated a new 9/11 memorial in hallowed Monument Park in center field, saw the firefighters and police officers march to "America" by Neil Diamond while carrying a giant U.S. flag and, finally, we got to see the Yankees come from behind to win in front of a sellout crowd. Those folks in Yankee Stadium that night experienced something special.
I had many wonderful, emotional experiences over the course of the next 16 months that I lived in Lower Manhattan, and the following two years or so that I was a frequent visitor to the greatest city in the world. While I moved up to New York, and that area specifically, partly to be a part of history and the rebirth of Lower Manhattan, I experienced so much more. People shared their lives with us and allowed us to hear their stories, witness their struggles and watch as they recovered from such a devastating blow. We watched business owners try to recover after 90 percent of their clients had worked in the Trade Center, and got to know the people who were there that day. I worked with people who lost loved ones and even had friends who were in the Towers when it happened. Finally, I got to see thousands of people come to the site every single day from all over the world to somehow find their own peace with what happened. It was my backyard and I will forever be grateful to the wonderful city of New York. I cannot wait to return and I will never forget.
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