I’m not from New York, but I live here now. Have lived here since January 2001 and was here on September 11th. I was sick that day, home from work and sitting at the computer (was I really sick? heh heh) and checking email and all of a sudden people starting writing me asking if I was okay. Didn’t know what they were talking about, didn’t have a T.V. I turned on my radio and found an a.m. station and wound up hearing the live broadcast of the second Tower.
I was living in a basement apartment at the time and my landlady who lived upstairs and worked in downtown Brooklyn walked home over the Brooklyn Bridge and brought a co-worker with her who couldn’t get home, or maybe she was a stranger. I don’t remember. What was interesting was that my landlady was Orthodox Jewish and the stranger was Mormon and we had a little teatime about religion. Was a distraction from the day.
I’ve written about this before, in other places, but one of the things that I remember the most was the smell underground, meaning that there were subway stations that had to be bypassed but still we went through the tunnel of course and the smell… I don’t know how to describe it. And going so so so so so slowly through those sections. So eerie. I mean because on a good day the trains move at a decent pace but through downtown Manhattan those months? I don’t have the words. We were traveling through hell.
I never did look up the astrology of that day although I know it’s all over the Web and I think in my astrology class my teacher went over it once or twice.
I do remember though that it was a beautiful morning, weather-wise, and it was the time of year before Rosh Hashanah, the start of the Jewish High Holidays when special prayers are said in the morning at shul (synogogue).
To Be Continued…
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