On September 11th, 2001, I just didn't know what was going to happen to me, to us, to everyone.
My boyfriend and I were at home having a good time. Just typing that, knowing what was about to happen, makes me feel ill at ease. But how was I supposed to know what was coming? We were being silly that morning, the way young lovers are. We had not been living together long and every day was fun...even when we were arguing. We had made breakfast and taken a shower and were laughing. We laughed a great deal that morning.
I was supposed to take New Jersey transit to the World Trade Center, and then walk to my office. I had done it a few times before, no big deal. Sometime before the train Brad looked at me and told me he wanted us to take our time. Why not skip taking the New Jersey route and he would take me across the Hudson so I could take the New York route into Manhattan? Grand Central to the 4 or 5 to Fulton Street.
So we lallygagged around and laughed. And then we go in our car to go be "professionals"--him a doctor, me a dot com/Wall Street guy, trying to make spreadsheets and profit/loss statements a part of my life.
We both got calls at the same time. The hospital called him about a patient while my old college roommate, staying in my apartment in downtown Brooklyn, called to say he had been awakened by an "explosion." He turned on the TV...a plane, what I imagined to be a small passenger plane, had hit one of the towers.
"I have to go Mike," I told him. We had an agreement. When Brad got a call about a patient, I could not talk on the phone as he might miss a detail. So Brad kept talking and Mike called again. And again. And once again I think. I did not pick up but wondered why he kept calling.
Brad hung up and I told him what Mike had said. We put the radio on WCBS and the newscaster was talking about the plane. What a horrible thing.
We turned onto the Tappan Zee to cross the Hudson. Little did we know that about 30 seconds prior to that the second plane, filled with people undoubtedly crying and praying or in shock, passed over our heads. From there we saw it all unfold as it was a crystal clear day that day and lower Manhattan was immediately to our right.
I did not make it in that day. The mayor stopped the trains. So I went home and experienced the start of a downward slide that would not stop for a long time. On that day so many of us changed and are still changing. The aftermath no one could have predicted.
So six years later I am up after a less than perfect nights sleep. I am getting out my 9/11 ribbon that is in a glass box in my hall. I am going to go there again and roam the streets, see the people, attend a service at Trinity. And then begin my day of helping people make their lives better.
Here's to all of us. On this day, the 6th anniversary, let's all reflect on where we were and where we are. And let's marvel at the opportunity for change and renewal and healing.
