I hadn't planned on visiting the site last night. I hadn't prepared mentally or physically to come across a sight so emotionally charged. At first glance, I dismissed it as another NYC construction project, adding to traffic, disrupting the peace, etc. And then I realized where I was.
Standing at West St. and Liberty Street in Manhattan, just outside the World Financial Center, I reevaluated my reasoning for the cranes, lights, and men in hard hats scurrying about. The fenced off area was not just some construction site, rather the remnants of the World Trade Center, the Twin Towers. This sudden realization automatically forced my gaze upward. There it was: the hole in the sky, the gap in the skyline, the missing teeth in an otherwise pearly white smile.
Suddenly, images of planes, crumbling steel, people jumping from towers were no longer two-dimensional objects on a television or computer screen. They were no longer events happening to distant people, somewhere across the country. I was standing just across the street from those terrible images. I could see the towers coming down, I could hear the terrifying screams, I could smell the dust and smoke from the wounded towers.
It was surreal, and like I said, I wasn't ready for it. Of course, as an American, the events of 9/11 had a profound effect on me. However, living on the West Coast provided a certain amount of separation and distance. I was even in New York for the 7th anniversary of the event, and still I felt far removed. In essence, it never really hit home until last night. It was just a little too eerie to be standing right there. I hope I can visit one more time, get one more chance to gather my wits and pay my respects to those who lost their lives on that day.
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