9/11/2001, I was a sophomore in high school. I was going to gym class when a boy named Gregory came screaming down the hall way, “the Twin Towers were hit the Twin Towers were hit!” I didn’t believe it. I kept thinking, how random it would be to target those Towers and how random is was that Gregory would make up that kind of story. Sadly, a story it wasn’t. History class was when I was able to catch a glimpse of the first tower going down around 9 am. Students were frantic in the hall way, faculty were calling their love ones who either worked in the building or around it. I was thinking about my Aunt Terri who worked in one of the towers (thankfully decided not to work that day). I remember my father came to pick me up early from school and on our way back home, I watched the thousands of people walking from the Brooklyn Bridge. I peered up at the sky. It was filled with smoke as it traveled from Manhattan through Brooklyn and soon surrounding the five boroughs completely. It was very hard to breathe, it smelled like death. The foul smell lingered for a couple of weeks even. My mother, who was one of the people who walked the Brooklyn Bridge sat on the living room couch, head in her hands asking “why? why? this is our home.”
I didn’t have school the next day. Instead, we used the time to reflect on the horrors of 9/11, to think about the images we saw of the planes crashing into each building, the couple holding hands as the plunged to their deaths, the beautiful picture the New York Times captured of Manhattan covered by the debris of the towers collapsing or the beautiful image of one of the oldest churches on Chambers street, still standing after terror attack.
I remember the pictures of missing people on the news, the pictures and cards everywhere surrounding the church and every year we remember those we have lost. These are the emotions I felt when I saw the picture on Hall’s Mark II blog “I’m Feeling a Little Emotional.”
It is amazing after so many years after the attack, that I can still remember the attack like it was yesterday and feel an emptiness every time I look at New York’s beautiful skyline and do not see the twin brothers. I walk by the site every day to take Path train home and to go to work and while tourist stop and take pictures, there is pain behind each New Yorkers eyes. When I looked at the picture, I realized that we were no longer invincible, but the attack made us stronger.
Hall Mark and I are both from New York City, even though I am from Brooklyn. Yet we still share a common emotion and pain when we stare at the picture of the Twin Towers. I enjoyed how she observed that a specific image can bring out intense emotions and each one can differ between people. Its even interesting how a picture can bring back so many memories. For example, even though we are both from New York, we were at different places when the incident occurred and yet we still share intense pain every time we see the image. Every image that we see tells a story; it tells our story and what it means to us.
The blog was simple in structure but strong in meaning.