It was surreal watching the 10 year anniversary ceremony from my living room this past sunday. I can still clearly remember when and where I was when the first plane hit- in Memphis with my family, sitting in stunned silence as we watched the story unfold on the Today Show. Each minute bringing a new tragedy too big to comprehend; each second bringing a form of chaos too much to bear. At the time I remember thinking, who will ever live in that area again? How could life ever go back to normal at that same site? Never in a million years would I have thought that ten years later, I would be literally living at ground zero, facing the very site that soul crushingly altered so many lives so many years back.
The majority of the day the streets were restricted to only service men and women, and of course, families of the victims. I watched as people cried and embraced in the streets- strangers bonded in pain and sadness- there was no need for words. Towards the end of the evening, near the firehouse that directly sits across from the site, I watched as a huge crowd gathered to listen to a troop of about 25 bagpipers. The sound of the bagpipes and the energy of the crowd left me with an insurmountable feeling of hope. And peace. I know I may not be a full fledged New Yorker (still three years shy of my official 10 year membership card), but I do know that I went to bed having never felt more connected to New York. Here's to you, NY... and here's to all of us for having made it to the other side of that horrific day.
