10 years on
We were living in a one bedroom apartment with the stereo set loudly to Newstalk ZB to make sure I got up in time for the bus to work. I awoke with a startle to hear Paul Holmes saying – and I remember the exact phrase – “… and tens of thousands of people are dead, the World Trade Tower has collapsed…” We raced bleary-eyed into the lounge and flicked on our tiny TV to see the images to match the words. I don’t think anything will ever match that feeling of being stunned that day. I called my parents and told them to turn on the TV.
I went to work but didn’t get anything done. We were all watching TV, trying to load videos online, trying to contact friends in NYC, confused, shocked, fearful of what it all meant. The TV networks played the same clips over and over, and it got to be a bit too much to see it on loop after a while. I was most disturbed by seeing people jump to their death live on TV.
We’d seen too many NYC disaster movies, this felt too surreal for it to be real this time.
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It was seven years later that I returned to NYC, 17 years after my last visit. I stood at the edge of a bustling, noisy and messy building construction site, saw the names listed out and couldn’t hold back the tears.
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Even when I see the pictures today, tears come.
I’ll never forget September 11.