September 11th, 2013

It’s been twelve years since those towers fell. I was in 5th grade. How has time gone by so quickly?

It’s no secret whit my friends or family why I came to New York. It’s also no secret that I’ve always loved Chicago more. But I’m starting to fall for this city. I have an odd love of $50 cab rides (my bank account strangely doesn’t) and how swiftly people walk on the sidewalks. (Tourists, for the love of god, take taxis You’ll save  your feet, see more of the city and keep from pissing the rest of us off.) New York now has a travel song (I’m not even going to try to explain) and I miss it when I leave. 

September 11th made everyone pause, which wasn’t something I could really comprehend the importance of until I was older and lived on the East Coast. 

In the Midwest, everything is slower. This isn’t a bad thing. As a kid, it’s great. I can think of no better setting for the white picket fantasy than Des Moines, IA. So when there were so many people emphasizing how still and quiet NYC and nearby cities were, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t. 

Even living downtown, I’ve never seen the city as quiet as it was described that day. We live on Wall at Pearl so even when all the bankers and tourists (who always make me late with their damn photographs) go home, Broadway and Water are still busy and full of taxis. 

I don’t know exactly where I was going with this, but I remember what happened that day. And I remember it’s consequences. I think that’s the important part. I hope NYC never has reason to be quiet again. 

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