I have to admit, writing this update will be difficult. This past Wednesday, NYC and the nation remembered the horrific losses experienced 12 years ago. Nearly 3,000 people were killed that day including 343 New York Fire Fighters (FDNY). This is my first year living here and experiencing it as a resident. Many family and friends from back home called that day wondering what NYC was like and how it was being remembered.
Wednesday morning I was running a little late. I left my apartment and caught the “1” train headed to Penn Station around 8:35 am. At 8:46, the train suddenly stops and the lights were dimmed. 8:46 was the time the first plane hit the Twin Towers 12 years ago. No one on the train moved. No one said a word as we sat and stood in silence for 10 minutes. There was no pre announcement and no post announcement, everyone just knew. When I got to the office, I found out a few of my staff were taking the day off. Some of them had lost family members in the attack and were remembering and grieving in their own way. All day, the City seemed quieter, a little more somber.
New York is typically the most “live in the moment” city I’ve ever worked in or been part of. The intensity can be overwhelming. Everything seems compressed and the pressure to always be “on” is ever-present. I actually love that about this place. In many ways, it makes me feel more alive. On 9/11, the edge seemed to drop considerably. Maybe it was just me but people seemed to have a little more patience, a little more tolerance. As far as I know, there were no protests, or big ceremonies other than at Ground Zero where the names of the lost were read every 6 minutes. This is mostly for the families of the loved ones who they lost. The “Tribute in Light” where two large spot lights stay on through the night of 9/11 could be seen across the city but even that came with no big ceremony. It was more somber, sacred than that. One of the most touching moments I experienced was walking by a fire station on the Upper West Side. There was a small enclave near the main door where several photos of Firemen from that station who lost their lives were displayed in remembrance. There were flowers everywhere on the sidewalk.
It’s just my opinion, but it feels like most people here want to honor the day and remember the lost in their own way, but also want to show resilience. The events of 9/11 were a punch in the gut, but nowhere near a knock out punch. In my 8 months here, I have found the majority of the people to be kind and gracious. Yes, everyone’s in a hurry and people aren’t into small polite phrases (“excuse me”, “sorry”, “pardon me”), but I’ve never had a situation where I needed some help where someone didn’t extend a hand in some way. I’ve never felt unwelcome, in fact just the opposite. Everyone here is from somewhere else. It’s the most diverse place I’ve ever been, maybe the most diverse city on the planet. In a typical day, I will hear more foreign languages and non-English accents than I hear from people born and raised in the US. It’s a beautiful tapestry of a thriving CIty. But on 9/11, it just felt like we were all in this thing together. Yes, let’s honor and remember, but let’s also show strength and unity. Maybe I just see things through rose-colored glasses and I know my faith in God allows me to see people through His eyes as beautiful, loved creations (when I’m not in too big of a hurry that is). There are plenty of major issues here, homelessness, poverty, drugs (especially among the middle and upper class) disease, rats, etc that all need to be addressed. But there is conversely an amazing amount of beauty if you look just below the surface. Every day, I have to choose which to see. On 9/11, it was just a little easier to see the beauty.