I Can't Believe We Were Just There

It was the final weekend of the US Open (tennis version) in New York City, and yours truly along with Mrs. Hall and my brother Steve were taking in the city as we got ready for the championship match. Don’t ask me who was playing because I can’t remember, or maybe I’ve just shoved it aside. We did the usual jaunt to Mickey Mantle’s restaurant next to Central Park and then made our way up to the US Open tennis complex. It was a gorgeous day and we made a point to walk as much as time allotted before we had to take the No. 7 train to Queens.

I know I haven’t been to every great city in the world but I can’t imagine a greater city than New York. My European cousins talk about Paris, London and Rome, and I’m sure they are awesome. I have every intention of visiting each one of those cities and I plan to soak up the history and the beauty and the richness that each offers. But man, this is New York City. You want multicultural? Walk down 5^th Avenue from Penn Station to Central Park. You want cool, hip, and old school all walking side by side? Turn off 5^th and head up to the New York Public Library. And this particular Sunday had it all in spades. It was awesome.

Tessa, Steve and I drank and screamed and laughed all that day and into the evening which ended with two guys beating the hell out of tennis balls to the cheers of thousands, and then the 3 of us climbing to the top of Arthur Ashe Stadium, looking out at the greatest skyline in the world (all apologies to the cousins). My wife said it best. “I love traveling around the world, but I can’t wait to get home to the greatest country on the planet.” And in case you think my wife’s just a jingoist homer…she’s from Amsterdam.

A couple of days later I was driving to work while listening to Imus in the Morning. At the time he was broadcasting out of WFAN, the sports talk-radio station in New York. All of a sudden he gets a call from one of the sportscasters, Warner Wolf, who had the day off and was in his apartment in Manhattan. He starts talking about a plane flying into one of the World Trade Center buildings. It’s Imus In the Morning, so you’re waiting for the punch line. No punch line. Then Warner gets this weird sound in his voice and says there’s another one. Another plane just flew into the World Trade Center! What the fuck is going on?

I get to work a few minutes later and find my wife who worked a floor below me. “Are any of the cousins in New York?” A bunch of people are staring at the TV in the conference room. This can’t be happening. About an hour later our president sends us home. State of emergency. They’re closing the New Jersey borders. Go be with your families. We go home and start watching the television. “I can’t believe we were just there.” The first tower falls. The second tower falls. The two of us had the emotions that a lot of people had that day: she was crying and I was pissed. Tessa wouldn’t even let Scout the Wondercat outside because she’s afraid these fucking animals are going to bomb our home in Newtown Grant.

10 years. Seems longer. Then again, sometimes it seems like yesterday. I read a couple of articles this past week telling the rest of us that America had to move on. Quit dwelling. These are the same elitist twits who like telling the rest of us what to do on any given day about any given subject. I’m a civil guy. But, “Fuck You.” Tell that to my WWII veteran, saint of a step-father who can’t watch the first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan without balling his eyes out. Tell that to some poor bastard who volunteered to fight in any of our conflicts and came home with one leg but who decides not to bitch and moan but decides to be happy that he can pursue the Yahwhistic blessing of more life while being proud to fight for his country. And try telling that to a New York City fireman or policeman or any of the thousands of aid workers who made a difference that day. I won’t even mention the loved ones of those that were lost that day. I can’t imagine speaking for them. One may be able to move on, but one is certainly entitled to, and is even encouraged to partake in a form of dwelling – which is to remember…vividly.

The fact is, America did move on to a degree. Our lives weren’t significantly changed on a day-to-day level, unless you’re a frequent traveler. We woke up a little. People had been talking about “the end of history”, and how we were entering this blissful phase of global peace. Guess that didn’t work out. We were reminded that the world is always “so much with us.” And it can be an incredibly dangerous world, populated by a large chunk of people who don’t’ like us. 10 years later, we’re okay. But on that day 10 years ago, I can’t believe we were just there.