September 11, 2001

I woke up on September 11, 2001 with a severe hangover. In less than two months I would find myself thrown out of my home and things weren't going well at all. Rather than interact with a woman who would do nothing but criticize and find fault, my routine on the evening before my day off was to rent several videos, buy a six pack or two of Leinenkugel and stay up all night drinking and watching mindless entertainment. When I stumbled into the living room that awful Tuesday morning I found my children watching CNN - one of them quickly told me that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. My first thought was that a small private plane had clipped one of the towers. The news reports were confused and the images unclear. But it quickly became evident that a full-sized jet airliner had plowed into one of the Twin Towers. While I sat trying to make sense of it all, while we watched the coverage, the second plane hit and the chaos multiplied. The day only got worse.

The Twin Towers of the World Trade Center were an image that I grew up with. From the third floor of St. Pius X, my elementary school in Rosedale, Queens, we could see the towers being erected 20 miles away. Visits to Manhattan frequently included a jaunt to the top and the view of an endless horizon. For several years I worked summer jobs and later a full time gig in New York's financial district literally in the shadow of the towers. On one occasion, while employed as a mail room boy, I ran out with my co-workers to see a man walking a tightrope between the two. They were a duo of hulking, yet elegant, giants, always looking over my shoulder, always a part of the skyline; we grew up together, the towers and me.

On September 11, 2001 I quickly was assured that none of my family or friends were killed or injured. My brother, New York City Police officer and my cousin, a New York firefighter were nowhere near the devastation, none of the family lived or worked in Manhattan. Despite this, I felt a certain helplessness, a sense of being set adrift as the city that I always have considered my home was so mercilessly attacked. Nine months later during a visit to family I had to pull my car onto the shoulder to weep as I saw the gaping hole in the skyline.

Ten years later...the world, our world will never be the same