Times Square, Silent Train, and a Secret... Reflections on my 9/11

My favorite view of the Twin Towers pre-9/11 that I never tired of... from Hoboken.

Twelve years ago now, after watching two beautiful buildings crumble to the ground on a small TV in the cafeteria of my New York City office building, I was sent home from work, and not knowing where to go or what to do next, I went back to the company apartment that I was staying at and turned on the TV again. What was I looking for? The images were the same over and over. I had to get out of New York, but I was stuck, so that would have to wait until tomorrow. I decided to go for a walk and went a couple of blocks over to Times Square. It was still and quiet. A ghost city. The image from "Vanilla Sky" where Tom Cruise runs through an empty Times Square filled my head. I shivered. All the stores and kiosks were boarded up, there were no taxis or cars honking through the streets, no bus fumes. It was quiet enough that I could hear the sound of the jet fighters making their rounds overhead and the ambulances in the distance racing south on the West Side Highway. I was alone, but not really. I had a secret.

Sleep would not come for me that night. So, at first light, I headed for the train station to see if I could get to the Jersey side where my parents and siblings were. The station was packed, but people were quiet and orderly. Everyone had suitcases. It was a mass exodus from the city, like refugees. Transit Authority workers were directing people along and filling up the trains as fast as they could. No charge. I stood on the packed train among silent people. It was like the sound turned off on the TV. No one spoke. The train pulled away from the station and went through its underground stretch under the Hudson River. After a few minutes, daylight and a bright blue sky. And as we pulled away from the train tunnel and turned to be parallel with the river, the city loomed on the other side of it, with smoke still pluming from downtown. And people gasped. A woman sitting by the window sobbed. I felt sick. 

I arrived at my parents' home. They were happy to see me and gave me big hugs. We didn't say much to each other. I  went outside and lied on the grass in their front yard and stared up at the blue sky with puffy white clouds. A carbon copy of the sky that brought disaster 24 hours earlier. When things were much different and seemingly "more normal."

I had big news to tell that night in the kitchen. About the new little person that was to join our family in about 9 months time. And though my husband wasn't there with me to share the news with them, we felt it was the right time to share our news with our families - about their first grandchild. To bring a little bit of joy to a day when there was so much sadness.

This summer, my sons and I visited the WTC Memorial Site. To be honest, I was a bit underwhelmed. The grounds, underground arcade and those two tall buildings I'd always admired seemed so massive to me when I worked and played among them in my 20s. The site today seems so small. But it is beautiful and serene and it's nice to have a special place to say hello to old friends and acquaintances who rest there forever. Never forget 9/11.

A "forever young" friend.