I don’t remember what I wore. I can no longer see the faces, but the sea of people rolls on in my memory. I was 18 and my world was just broadening, my vision of the world only just coming into focus. Life was just opening up to me, when I first saw you.
It was a cold April, Colder than I had ever experienced. Despite the coat, hat and scarf bundled around me; that would have been sufficient in California, I felt true winter for the first time.
The wonder of your majesty and the tower of your strength escape me now. For now the sea of people drown you out and your face is more a ghost than a memory. I waited in line for hours, for you were my gateway to the city. My first stop on the maiden voyage of my new life journey.
The faces of the many fill my thoughts as we squeezed into the elevator and ride up to the very top. Your viewing deck was high above the skyline where I could see far and wide, a world I never knew was there. I stroll your corners and wonder at the grandeur that I see, how I experience the world will forever after change.
My heart skips a beat when I realize just how high we are and how I fear the fall. The elevator descends and we go on so see the sights. The Central Library, the Subway, Broadway, St Patrick’s Cathedral, Central Park, the island where Lady Liberty sits waving her torch for all to see meet my awakened eyes. We see all the sights, and I walk her streets always looking up.
I never will forget you, but I don’t remember your face. I will never forget the feeling when I woke to hear the news. Your majesty was breaking down and your strength was under attack. I cried and froze in memory of that day 6 months before, watching helpess as you came tumbling down.
The following cold December I felt prepared for the chill that penetrated my soul. I was 19 now and so much wiser about the world we lived in. I felt prepared for all, but the bitterness of loss and the sorrow when I walked past you again. I run my hand along the chain link fence where you once proudly stood. I got chills not from lack of clothes but from the sights of a city changed.
I can remember the sea of faces, now frozen still in photos taped to the fence with the flowers. I can remember the ribbons and the lost feeling of youth as I walked past your grave. I couldn’t bare to go in and see the destruction closer, I could feel it in the air. I don’t remember what I wore but I remember standing there.
***(This Prompt was from 2014 and seems fitting as today is the 15 year anniversary of 9/11/01. I always recall the memory of my two bookend visits of the WTC the first visit in 4/2001 and the second in 12/2001)***