Photo I took of a West Village firehouse about 3 weeks after the World Trade Center attacks. Larger
Ten years ago today I was living by the beach in San Diego and planning my move to New York City. I woke up on West Coast time and the first thing I did was check my email. I had a message from my mom begging me not to move to New York. Odd. She had been really supportive of the move up until then. I mindlessly turned on the TV and saw that the first of the twin towers was down. I was so confused. What was going on? An accident? Then the second went down. Oh no.
It was a scary time. My work’s headquarters were in Manhattan only about a mile from World Trade Center. I remember spending the day, make that dayS, with friends. I remember getting a call from the New York office explaining how they understood, I don’t want to move now. Well, the truth is I still did want to move. And I did. My first day in Manhattan was 18 days after the attacks.
I was living down in the Village, a mile and a half from the Trade Center and whole areas of the city down there were still blocked off. Imagine a new city – New York City, walking around, getting confused, getting lost, photocopied pictures of missing people posted on light posts, firehouse memorials, walking into barricades. I remember sitting at work and all you could smell was burning. There was devastation everywhere, in the place and in the people, but there was hope. I have never once regretted moving to New York. I’m so thankful I did.
Never forget. We’re all in this together. My thoughts are with the victims and their families on this day and always.
