9-11

Four years ago the only thing I had on my mind was my wedding that was just a week and a half away. I had been commuting between NYC and Knoxville for almost two years and was looking forward to settling down with my future husband in Knoxville. So, on the morning of Sept 10, 2001 I wasn't really thinking about saying good-bye to a building that I had grown to love as I ran to catch my PATH train to Newark in the World Trade Center station.
It was 3:30 am and after sitting up all night with my roommate in a diner on our corner I had set out to catch my 5 am flight to Atlanta. I always went through World Trade because it was close and it was cheap and I was broke. As usual, I stopped for coffee even though, as usual I was running late.
Everytime my train pulled above ground I would always strain against the glass to try and catch a glimpse of the city that I loved so much. I had no idea that morning that this would be the last I would see of it for almost a year. My apartment, though up on Waverly, was evacuated and I was furloughed, so there was no reason to go back, and I really didn't want to.
I had no interest in seeing the gaping hole that remained of the place where my friends and I had celebrated our first Christmas in the city. We sat crying and singing carols in the Winter Garden of World Trade on Christmas Eve. Then later, my roommate and I would ride the elevator to Windows on the World to catch a free view of "our playground" and to try and catch her a rich man. I bought my first map of the city in Kate's Paperie in the World Trade Mall. It was just too much.
So, on 9-11 when my father-in-law called to ask if I was OK, I didn't really know if I was. I didn't know how to react to the images that were flashing in front of me on the TV. I was just there. What happened to the ill-tempered girl who always sold me my coffee? Or the old man that operated the elevator?
I still had the receipt for my coffee in my change purse. My train stub was laying on the table by the door. My future husband (who at the time was a cop) was asleep in our bedroom and I stood in front of the TV crying for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, my misprinted cocktail napkins didn't seem so important.