I walked around my city this morning, to see who was alive, to see if I was alive. The first thing I noticed was that things were open. A deli was open. A barber shop was open. A restaurant was open. I have never been so happy to see an open Dunkin' Donuts, or Taco Bell. I could have cried from the beauty of it all.
There are makeshift flyers all over town that say, "Due to WTC we need blood - Go to hospitals and give blood!" I called 1-800-933-BLOOD this morning and they told me that unless I have type O blood I should wait until this weekend to donate. I am A positive. I will wait until this weekend to donate.
People walked the streets. They had their work clothes on. They talked on their cell phones and drank coffee from Starbucks. I saw them jamming a nearby diner, eating breakfast. If I didn't know better I would have said that today was just like yesterday. Only yesterday at that very moment I was busy yelling at my father, who kept calling my cell phone. I didn't know then. All I had heard was that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I screamed to my father that I was all right, that it was nothing, that I was busy looking for Tina because I wasn't sure I was in the right place for my interview and I was very nervous and STOP CALLING ME!
I found Tina. She drank coffee and I drank bottled water, and she told me about working at Christie's. On our way back she pointed down 6th Avenue and said, "Look at that!" I saw smoke coming out of the World Trade Center and thought, "That's a lot of smoke for one stupid plane." How did I know that that was the last time I'd see the twin towers?
As I sat in the lobby on the 5th floor at Christie's, I tried to reassure the hysterical receptionist that everything was OK. Then someone came out and said that it was two planes that had crashed the WTC. And that one had crashed in D.C. as well. It was 10am. The receptionist shrieked, "That's terrorism!"
Some people claim they see their lives flash before their eyes in moments like this. I saw the elephant that nearly trampled us in the African bush. I froze, just as I did then, afraid to move, that if I moved at all, even blinked, that I would die. I saw the elephant. My heart stopped. I thought of my parents. I had just yelled at my father, when he simply wanted to know that I was still alive.
No, today is not like yesterday.
The woman who was to interview me came out and told me she'd call me Friday and we'd reschedule, but that everyone at Rockefeller was to go home. I packed myself into the elevator with other employees. I started walking towards the 6 train. The sidewalks were jammed with people standing outside electronic news tickers and open windows with TVs inside. I started to watch with them. I called my parents to tell them I was alive and safe and on my way home. I looked down 6th Avenue again and thought, "Wow, there's so much smoke now that you can't even see the tops of the twin towers anymore." No, Mer, there ARE no twin towers anymore. I'd learn that later.
No, today is not like yesterday.
Today I know that all my friends are safe and sound. People in South Africa and Japan have called me and know that me and mine are safe and sound.
This morning I walked around my city. I saw a woman with an iced coffee in her hands, and lipstick on the straw. I thought, "She put on lipstick this morning. Good for her!" I gave money to a homeless person on the street. I have never ever done that before. But I saw him and I thought, "I am alive. He is alive. I have a dollar and he doesn't."
Police cars and ambulences would go by, sirens wailing, and everyone would stop and watch them go. They all went in the same direction: downtown. And we all watched them go, because we knew that they were going to be heroes.
As I kept walking, the sidewalks became more and more crowded with people. More businesses opened. I walked to Union Square. 14th Street was blocked off going southbound. I looked down Broadway and saw police cars, and camera crews, and people showing their IDs to get to work. Past them I saw buildings still standing. Past that I saw smoke and wreckage where the WTC used to be.
I walked along 14th Street, back towards Park Avenue. I thought to myself how great my city is. They can hit us, but they cannot knock us down. We are stronger than they are, and we are bigger than they are, and we will find them and we will kill them. While our government spends billions of dollars on anti-terrorist programs, the real fighting is being done right here in the city, on the streets and the sidewalks of New York. Every woman who put on lipstick this morning, every man who tied his tie, every shopkeeper who opened up, every waitress serving food, every cup of coffee, every dog pulling on the end of a leash this very morning, this day after, is proof that no terrorist can stop us. We are New York City. We are America. We are unstoppable.
As I'm thinking this I see a crowd of people on the open part of Union Square Park. I walk up the steps and see what they are all looking at: a makeshift memorial. Someone, or a group of someones, has taped down plain brown paper and people are writing on it. The real sunflowers all over it, and the fact that an NYU dorm is just across the street make me think that college kids did this. There are markers so that people can write. I see many references to Jesus on the memorial. Someone has drawn a crude WTC with a plane going into it. Someone else has written, "God has new angels to watch over His creation." I pick up a marker, a red marker, and simply write, "The best revenge is that life will go on. MM."
I pick up a New York Post on my way home. It is 25 cents. I think about the dollar I gave the homeless man. Then I think, "Only in New York can I spend $1.25 without even doing anything!" And I smile, because I have, in fact, done many things this morning. I have woken up and been alive and borne witness to my fellow New Yorkers, who are all alive with me.
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