Ground Zero

It's hard to believe that it's been 15 years since the Twin Towers at The World Trade Center in lower Manhattan were destroyed.  It feels like it was just yesterday.  

 

I was at home when it happened.  Edward called to tell me that a plane had just hit one of the towers.  

The first thing I did was look out the window, but it was a beautiful clear day. 

Then I turned on CNN.  They were showing the video of the plane taking down the second tower.  It was clearly not accidental. 

I told Edward to leave immediately and come home.  Instead, he went to get a closer look at the burning towers.  Luckily he was far enough away that when they fell he could stay ahead of the dust. 

Then he began the long trek home.  In new shoes.  Meanwhile the city was eerily quiet.  No planes, no cars, no buses.  Just lots of people walking north.  And people lining up at the hospitals to give blood - before we realized that it would not be necessary. 

Later after Edward got home the wind shifted and a strange smell filled the air, along with great sorrow.  It lasted for months. 

Everywhere you looked there were makeshift memorials to those who had died.  With photos.  And flags.  Lots of flags. 

For weeks you couldn't go below 14th Street because the dust still filled the air.  It wasn't until St. Patrick's Day the following year that people started to smile again. 

Such a sad memory. Such an unforgettable moment.

Condolences to everyone who was hurt.

PJ

(c) 2016 PJ Lehrer