September 11, 2001

There are some people alive still who can say what it was they were doing or thinking or how they felt when they heard about President Kennedy being shot or the attack on Pearl Harbor or Roosevelt dying, Franklin that is not Teddy. Even though if you are one of the ones who can remember when Teddy Roosevelt died then God bless you and I hope you have many more years. I however, will be one of those who will always remember 911, although perhaps not with the same intensity that I thought I would have. 

I remember that Tuesday being one of those ordinary days where the sky was clear and blue with small puffy white clouds. The  air was clean and the temperature pleasant. It was the kind of day that you wish you always had but take for granted when you do by just going about your business. I had dropped off the Ex at the bus station in Mount laurel to catch the 7 o’clock to New York. He was working a show in New York and had to get back to do that week’s performances.  I went on to Philadelphia and work and what was to be a missed afternoon dental appointment and perhaps not such an ordinary day.

It was shortly after 9am when my sister called me from my parent’s home in Tampa and told me that one of the towers at the World Trade Center had been struck by a jet plane.” Tragic” I thought and I was sure that a lot of people would have been hurt but I had work to do and why was she calling me? She called me again about 15 minutes later and told me that the second tower had been hit. “Terrorism” I thought to myself. Yeah there’s a stroke of genius, but I didn’t say anything to her other than to thank her and then hang up.

Getting up from my desk, I walked over to windows by my supervisor’s desk to see if she was listening to her radio. From the 15^th floor if you look towards Jersey you can see the Federal court buildings as they sit on Independence Mall. If you look south, you can see Philadelphia International Airport about 4 or 5 miles away and see the planes take off and land. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for my supervisor who was running about with a frazzled look with hands waving in the air asking, “Is this End of Days?”  I hoped it wasn’t since knowing that she was a Christian there would probably be a special place in Hell reserved for her and with my luck I’d be sitting right beside her.

I went back to my desk and there was a voicemail from the Ex. He said that something was going on and that he might need my help. I called his cell phone back, several times, but the lines were busy or down or something. I couldn’t reach him. “How do I fix this?” I thought.

Minutes passed and my sister called me again and said that the one of the towers had collapsed. “You’re insane!” I almost screamed. It was getting to me. Everyone knew that the World Trade Center and many other buildings were built to withstand plane crashes. My God, I knew the World Trade Center; I had worked for Spear Leeds across the street from it. Each tower was almost as wide as a city block. But she said that she had seen it on the TV. How could I really argue with her? She could either believe me or her lying eyes. I really didn’t have anything to stand on.

I got up again and walked over to the windows and stared out. Everything still looked clear and beautiful, but people started to talk about the Pentagon being hit behind me. The pentagon? Don’t they have tanks or anti-aircraft artillery defending that place? My brain was being torn apart. I went back to my desk. There was another voicemail from the Ex. His bus had been turned around prevented from entering Manhattan and he needed me to pick him up. Pick him up from where Hoboken, Mount Laurel or was he coming into Philly? Why couldn’t he call me on my cell? Why couldn’t he leave a message that was worth a damn?  I called him again, but I still couldn’t get through. I called mutual friends of ours in Philly but no one had heard from him. I knew he was safe, just as I knew I was safe and would continue to be so. But I was starting to worry.

My sister called again and said that the second tower had fallen and that was all the news she could give me since she was getting ready to catch her flight to Philly. “I don’t know where you think you’re flying to but it won’t be Philadelphia. The airport has been shut down. ” I said. She said she would call the airlines and see what was up. After the nationwide shutdown of all aviation she was able to get a flight booked on the upcoming Saturday which of course was cancelled due Hurricane Gabrielle landing in Florida. I don’t think she was able to get back north until the following Wednesday.

At about 11:00, 11:30, the directors and the assistant vice-presidents started to run around our floor. The buzz now was that some place in the middle of Pennsylvania that no one had ever heard of before had been attacked and the question was when were they going to strike Philadelphia and which buildings? “What were they going to do?” someone asked, maybe it was me maybe it wasn’t. “Hem,” and then a little bit of, “Haw,” was the answer. Just then someone from security came up and said that the Mayor’s Office had declared that the city was being closed and that the building management had decided to evacuate the all 31 floors of the building. I didn’t have to hear that twice or listen for confirmation from the bosses. I think I was down on the street in less than 3 minutes. “Where to now?” I thought.

I crossed the street turned the block and went to the Greyhound station to see if the Ex was there, but all I saw was a crowded mass of faceless people acting frustrated and scared. He wasn’t there. Maybe he was at the store of a friend of ours over on Sansome Street I thought and started to walk over in that direction. “This is silly…think clearly!” I thought after getting half way there. I turned around walked to the train station through streets that seemed to be eerily void of traffic for that time of day.

At the station no one slid their tickets through the turnstiles as police ushered everyone freely through the gates in an orderly manner. And once I found a seat on the train I noticed a man pointing out from the news paper that it was World Peace Day or something. Funny, in a kind of a French existentialist way.

Suffice it to say, I got back to Jersey and drove to Mount Laurel and picked up the Ex. He had been waiting there about an hour he said. We didn’t hug or kiss or thank God because… that’s just not my way. Like the old Sure commercial says, “Never let them see you sweat,” has always been motto. Instead we just drove to my house watched the news together for a bit and then I went to sleep by myself. I always go to sleep when something troubles me. I suppose my body must assume that when I wake up everything will be alright.

It’s strange how I don’t really remember how I spent my birthday less than 2 weeks ago, but I do remember almost every detail of that day in September 10 years ago, except for the fear and the confusion and the uncertainty that I kept to myself that I thought that I would never lose. However, I did lose them, just like I lost the Ex and the other people in my life and the other things that I came to know.

I guess Forrest's momma was right, “Life is like a box of chocolates...”

*For more accounts of this day and its consequences, please visit The Neon Lounge for a list of bloggers who have dedicated their time and efforts in recounting their stories.

Hallowed Ground in New York

World Trade Center

It seems that a building, abandoned for the last eight years on Park Place in New York City, has been purchased for the purpose of tearing it down and building an Islamic community center and people are up in arms. There is a tremendous uproar from people saying that would be disrespectful to the memories of the victims of 911 and signal a triumph of terrorism over good. And more than that, to tell you the truth, I don’t really care.

I could bring up the fact that not all of the people who were killed during the attacks were Americans or even Christian or that the largest amount of Muslims in the U.S. happen to be African Americans. I could also bring up the First Amendment Rights here, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,” but I think that’s a no brainer. If the question was ever taken to court, no court in the land would ever think about denying people the right to worship whoever and wherever they want on the basis of it being unpopular. No, what really gets to me is the idea of calling not only the space where the Twin Towers but the surrounding territory, “hallowed ground.”

Years ago when I used to work for a brokerage house right opposite the World Trade center, I remember there used to be an Off Track Betting shop on Church St. I think. Not far from that, there was the Pussycat Lounge which I think was a stripper bar which I think still exists and is even closer to Ground Zero than the proposed community center. I don’t even want to bring up the only time that I stayed at the Marriott Hotel in the World Trade center was because it was only 2 blocks from where Afrodisiak was being held on Fulton St. Afrodisiak was a competitor of the Blatino parties where black and Latino men got together to do their thing. It was the first sex club that I had ever been to.

After the Ex and I found the location of the party, we had to walk up 12 fights of stairs because the elevator was out. Reaching the 12th floor I remember in between my heart trying to explode from my chest and being oxygen deprived, there was sign that said you had to be over 21 and no older than 35 to get in. I think that I had just had my 36th birthday and I thought if anyone said anything to me, anything, I would call the police and, “shut this illegal mutha fucka down.” Suffice it to say, they just took my money and handed me a garbage bag for the clothes and a small towel to cover the essentials.

There isn’t much else that I remember about that evening other than it being really dark. I turned at one point to the Ex while I was being sucked off and wondered out loud how, if I could talk to him face to face then whose chin was I banging my nuts against. I might have thought and said something differently if I had known that it would be considered sacred land in such a short while.

Anyway, in all deference to all those that were victimized during the 911 attacks and all those who have suffered since, that’s why I cannot go easily from sinner to saint and consider all of lower Manhattan as hallowed ground.

And that’s my piece.

Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire

I’ve been told that all I ever think about is sex; I always make a reference to sex either verbally or literally, and that is so untrue. I’ve never spoken about sex when writing about catastrophes like earthquakes or when planes fall from the sky. Speaking of which just let me get this straight, the Christmas Day Bomber 23-year-old Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab was carrying an explosive device in his underwear when it went off and instead of it exploding, it just burst into flame. Like Jerry Lee Lewis used to sing, “Goodness gracious great balls of fire.”

Now I think that if there was a cause that I believed in strongly enough, there wouldn’t be anything that I wouldn’t do to fight for that cause. But I would have to think long and hard to find a good enough reason to roast my own chestnuts and even then I’m not sure that I would come up with anything. I mean the boy was 23 so he must have thought that what he was carrying wouldn’t have been that big enough to completely obliterate him. But then I’ve never really understood that kind of behavior, here of there, now or before.

Speaking of nuts, I’ve heard that because of what happened on Christmas, many airports in the US and around the world intend on getting those whole body image machines that can take pictures of the body exposing anything or everything that maybe concealed below a passenger’s clothing. I know now that I will never get a Prince Albert even though I had been thinking about it. It will be bad enough that strangers will be able to see my Little Dorrit without me having a say so in the matter, but they would also be able to judge me and come to whatever conclusion they will have about me simply by staring at my choice of jewelry. And God forbid that I should ever become famous, that picture would be emailed over the net and TMZ before I would have even found my seat on the aircraft.

I remember back when I was child, we had to be well dressed to get on a plane. I had to wear a suit and a tie when I was 10 and travelling with my mother so that I wouldn’t shame her. Nowadays all of that has changed. We will be forced into a state virtual nudity by people making $3 over minimum wage who will map every mole and blemish on our bodies only to discover we will still get onto planes that fall from the sky for no apparent reason.