I was looking through some old photos, and found a bunch of World Trade Center pictures I didn’t even realize I had. I don’t live up in the northeast anymore, so I don’t see the city as often, but I wonder if the present New York skyline will ever stop looking strange to me. I wonder – when I hear of someone hoping to visit the Empire State Building to relive a scene in “Sleepless in Seattle” – if my first reaction will always be, “but the twin towers have better views of the city.”
It’s interesting the kinds of things we remember, and the details brought to mind, after certain events in our lives. The last time I was in the Trade Center, I wandered around the observatory floor, stepping up to windows and pressing my forehead against the glass. I’m not afraid of heights as long as I know I’m in a secure place – and I never could’ve imagined such a building would be brought down to earth years later. After my family and I had taken pictures or bought souvenirs or whatever it was we did, we rode the elevator back down to the nearly-deserted lobby. There was a great expanse of empty hallway, and blank wall, and freshly-vacuumed carpet. And the only other person I could see, as my small family group headed for the door, was a Muslim man praying next to the span of empty wall. At the time, I may have glanced at him, thought something like, “yup, that’s a guy praying,” and that was it. I walked out of the Trade Center, and I never visited again.
I doubt anyone else in my family even remembers that man, and I’m not sure why I do. In fact, he pretty much drifted away from the recesses of my mind the second I walked out the door. I didn’t think of him again until after September 11, 2001. As it became apparent that Islamic extremists were behind the attacks, and ordinary, law-abiding people who happened to be Muslim were interrupted from their daily lives by FBI visits and who-knows-what else, that man suddenly came back to my memory. I wondered who he was – did he work at the Trade
Center? Was he just visiting? Was he in the building on September 11? Was he still alive? I wouldn’t even recognize him if I saw him today, but I still wonder about that man…And I have to laugh at some of the “preventive” measures being employed these days. And I don’t mean “laugh” in a “ha-ha, that’s funny” kind of way. More in a “that’s just ridiculous” kind of way. Like when Faisal told me about how he and his brother were detained at an airport because the moniker “Mohammad” happens to be in both their names. I mean, putting aside the fact that Faisal is so far removed from “terrorist” that he’s a different SPECIES, it’s just a completely unreasonable approach. (Yeah. Let’s stop everyone who has the most common name on the planet and hold them for questioning. That’ll make a big difference.) It’s like the proverbial needle in a haystack…
But you know, maybe I’ll start applying the same logic to other people and situations. For instance – has anyone heard of Erik the Red? He was a Viking from Scandinavia, and he killed several people and probably pillaged and plundered and did a bunch of other bad Viking things, too. Obviously we wouldn’t want anyone like that to be hanging around an airport, or, God forbid, a ship yard. And wait a minute – my BROTHER’S name is Eric! Uh oh, and what’s more – my BROTHER is Scandinavian!! Whoa. This could be a problem. Obviously my brother is a Viking, and if anyone ever lets him on a cruise ship again, there WILL be pillaging and plundering. That makes perfect sense, right?
Anyway, I miss the twin towers, and their impact on the New York skyline. And I prefer to remember them as they are in these pictures. NOT as we’ve seen them so many times over the last several years – broken, torn apart, falling, in ruins. I hope that the man who was praying by the lobby wall was – and still is – praying for peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment