I wrote this last year on 9/11. I had no idea just how relevant it would be in 2020.
Several messages today about sharing your New York 9/11 story because there is now a generation who does not have living memory of it. Here’s mine.
I had lived in New York for fours years, one week and one day on 9/11/2001.
I remember thunderstorms the night before, that made that day pristine.
I remember voting in the mayoral primary then walking to work thinking about Brazil from where I had just returned, the US Open that had just finished, and fashion week that had just started.
I remember confusion, shock, and fear as we stood in Herald Square watching the towers fall and that that fear stayed with me through that night.
The next day, I remember standing in an endless line on the UES to give blood and realizing what it meant when they turned us away.
I remember dreaming for months after and occasionally to this day of planes flying into buildings.
I remember the funerals at St Patrick’s cathedral that made everyone on Fifth Avenue stand in silent respect.
I remember standing in a silent bar at a birthday party watching Jon Stewart talk about it and cry on the Daily Show.
I remember flying from Newark to Hilton Head for Thanksgiving — sitting in silence as we taxied and took off in full view of the scarred NY skyline.
I remember feeling furious that it took 18 years and extraordinary efforts by dying men for us to permanently take care of healthcare for first responders on that day.
But mostly I remember that New York City and New Yorkers are tough, resilient, brave, caring, loving, open, sometimes down but never out, and, even in our worst moments, we are filled with love, optimism and hope for the future.
