The events of that fateful day in 2001 resonate throughout the ages.
From the sheer horror of seeing the attacks unfold on live TV during ABC 7’s news break with News Copter 7 overlooking the scene. To the rest of the day being a blur. The scenes of Times Square being a ghost town during TRL’s broadcast that Friday.
And seeing the Manhattan skyline a week later as I headed to my first follow up appointment following the second surgery on my right leg. On the left side of my dad’s car, I could feel the profound absence as reality hit over the 59th Street Bridge. It took all my strength not to cry seeing the hole in the skyline.
I would come back to this area over the years to pay my respects. Now, I work in the area and the gravity of the moment is impossible to ignore.
Coming up from the subway at the World Trade Center, Cortlandt Street or Fulton Street every day, I see 1 World Trade Center rising up into the sky. I walk through the site and sit in silent contemplation from time to time. As a reminder of how far we’ve come while paying my respects to the people we’ve lost.
The white roses that dotted the names on the reflecting pools on Friday afternoon. The tree on the memorial site that withstood the chaos and carnage of the day.
As I stepped off the subway this morning heading to work, I could see the streets leading to the memorial blocked off and then at a distance, I stood silent as the first moment of silence began.
I’ll never forget them and this day.