On September 9, 2001, Jeff and I walked our dog down Boulevard East. The street where we lived ran along the bluff, overlooking the Hudson River and beyond it, Manhattan. We walked almost to the end of the promenade, to the small park that was always full, on sunny weekends, of bridal parties and prom-goers. Families and photographers snapped their pictures with the New York City skyline forming a magnificent backdrop.
We snapped a picture too, me standing sideways so you could see the tiniest hint of a baby bump, the dog pulling anxiously at her leash. Off in the distance, over my shoulder and across the river to the south, stood the twin towers. We thought maybe we’d take a picture every month, documenting the pregnancy.
Two days later, the towers were gone. We never did take another picture in that park.
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Sigh.
I still see the emptiness, so often, all the time.
Just read your older post. I too thought that it was some tiny plane when I heard the news on the radio. I couldn’t (and still haven’t) watched any of the video footage. The radio commentary was enough to shake me.
That got me RIGHT HERE.
Don’t forget all the quinceanaras there too.
So many years have passed. I wondered if anyone would make mention of it – I essentially spent the entire day in airports and on airplanes – but it was quiet.
Goosebumps.
Never knew that about the picture you took… Kerry came in for our first real date on September 8 and in the directions I sent him, I wrote that when you come out of the Holland Tunnel and get to West Street, “you’ll see the Twin Towers looming overhead.” He still has that email printout. Anyway, will always remember our bizarre night in Stuy Town, when we (or at least I) barely comprehended the magnitude of what happened.
I’m not a New Yorker, nor do I know anyone IRL there…but the images of the planes hitting the Twin Towers (I saw the second one on the TV they rigged up at work after the first one), and the towers coming down, affected me more that I could ever imagine, so I can only barely imagine how those of you who lived there felt.