NYC Explosion

I heard and read about the explosion yesterday and the first (and selfish) thought in my head was "thank god I wasn't there"  I know it'd scare the shit out of me.  Reading about the news put my emotions right back where it was around 9/11.

 

I lived in NJ, but went to school and worked in NYC, for a totall of almost 7 years.  I consider NYC my second home, I miss that city, the smell of it, the sounds, the lights, the people.

 

When 9/11 happened I was coming off the A train at the Broadway-Nassau / Fulton Street stop.  For those of you unfamiliar with NYC, that stop is basically a block away from the World Trade Center.  When I got off the subway the first tower was already covered in smoke, once I saw people falling off the building I ran to my office, only to hear and feel the explosion of the second building being hit.  It was in no exaggeration the worst day of my life.  (I always get a bit sad around that date, I might post something about it in a couple of months with more details of my story, for whoever is interested.  Still trying to find the long email I sent back then, to no avail.)

 

I tell the story now to people and I'm totally detached from it.  After about a week of being in shock, I had to shake the thoughts off my head, and life goes on.  That was a dark place I was in (and so were most New Yorkers), and I couldn't be afraid every time I took the subway, every time I crossed the Lincoln Tunnel, every time I got to Port Authority -- all of those were part of my daily commute, and for me, and for all those people that had their life end so tragically, it was our job to move on, to continue life as normal, to not let the terrorists win.

 

So life went on.  I was still working downtown for another year after 9/11, so the daily reminders were there.  Man, it was around Christmas time the first time I got off the subway and couldn't smell it the air, the first time the stench was finally gone (apparently there were fires until about then).

 

But once in a while events like the one yesterday put me back on that scary place.  I was scared shitless during the NYC blackout and the Trump Tower (where I worked at the time) got evacuated.  I only felt ok after tuning to the radio on my walkman and found out that nothing had happened, it was just an accident.

 

But every time something like this happens in NYC, our first thought is ALWAYS to the worst.  Specially for us who were there, who witnessed the towers burning, people dying, the towers collapsing, who thought "maybe I won't make it out alive."  Those of us who walked on the dust left on the floor after the collapse, those of us who walked around the city trying to get home (unsuccessfully in my case) with our feet covered in white powder.  Those of us who thought that had it been any other time during the day "I might've been in there"  Crap, I was there the day before dropping off a check for my company.  I was meant to be in there at the underground mall at lunch time that day.  So you can't help but fear the worst.  You put it on the back of your mind, you move on, you lock up those emotions, but at the first sign of danger, they all come rushing back.

 

Reading the story about the explosion yesterday put me back in that scary place -- reading how the New Yorkers reacted to the explosion, running away, thinking it was a new attack -- that would have been me.  Running away, freaking out, "not again!" -- scared for my life, for my friends, for my neighbors, for New York.

 

I can't only imagine what everyone is feeling right now -- yes, everything is pointing to an accident, not an attack, but that initial fear, that sense of helplessness that overcomes you, is one of the scariest moments of all.