Two Decades Later

A love letter to New York

Twenty-three years have passed since the September 11th, 2001 terrorist attacks took place, which forever altered New York City and America as a nation.

I’ve spent some time reflecting on this specific anniversary since it also represents something personal to me, and how 9/11 shaped my experience and relationship to the city. After my trip to the city in June with my parents, where we celebrated their 75th Birthdays and 50th wedding anniversary, I finally decided it was time to write down my decade-plus experiences in New York in the form of a personal memoir. This is all thanks to my Mom and her gentle nudging that my stories and memories were worth reading.

It’s a work in progress, but as a first step, I'd like to share with you a snippet from one specific memory that revisits my first night in the city, twenty years ago today.

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On the evening of September 11th, 2004, my parents and I boarded a plane from Seattle to New York City. I had a one way ticket, two suitcases, no laptop and a standard flip phone. I was 23 years old.

(This is the only photo I have on hand at the moment from August 2004, but here I am at 23 years old (bottom row, second in from the left) in Las Vegas, just two weeks away from moving to New York City. I had taken the phone interview for my internship from the hallway of Mandalay Bay hotel and before I knew it I had landed the position and was on my way to starting a brand next chapter.)

The sky was dark as we descended into JFK, and as I took in the glittering city skyline through the slightly smudged airplane window, I remember feeling full of anticipation and excitement, yet strangely calm considering I had just uprooted my entire life to move across country with only an unpaid internship and no place to live.

Looking back, I credit that calmness to the support I had from my parents and the fact that I somehow managed to stay deeply present at the time. I was living in the moment, unaware of what was waiting for me in that bustling city below, and yet, I seemed unbothered by the unknowing. My focus and drive to survive and succeed in New York City seemed to blind any worries or insecurities that might have otherwise surfaced.

My recollection of what happened between landing at JFK and our taxi ride into Manhattan is a bit hazy, but two memories from that first night in the city remain vivid in my mind...

The first memory was dinner at a tiny restaurant located in Little Italy called Positano Ristorante, which was recommended to us by the very sweet man working at the front desk of our hotel. Although the neighborhood he suggested was known to be very touristy, typically with overpriced, mediocre food, the spot we ended up at didn’t disappoint. We sat tucked away in the very back with a view of the whole restaurant, which was filled to the brim with people out and about enjoying their Saturday night in the city

(I was able to find some old photos of the restaurant Positano on Yelp, which has since closed.)

As I soaked up the contagious energy, I was hooked immediately. It was electric and so very seductive. We drank red wine, laughed with the waiter, ate our body weight in bread and pasta, and left the restaurant feeling energized. Still on West Coast time we decided to walk for a bit before turning in for the night. As we stepped out onto the narrow sidewalk, the streets were still buzzing at 10:30PM, inviting us to keep going.

The second memory was later that same night during our visit to Ground Zero. It was the third anniversary of 9/11 and we knew we wanted to pay tribute to the towers together.

Smart phones had not been invented yet, so most people just had some version of a flip phone (including us), which at the time were really only used to make phone calls or send the occasional text. Needless to say we didn’t have GPS at our disposal like we do now. Not knowing any other way to navigate our walk over there without getting totally lost, we whipped out our trusty foldable paper map and began heading south on Mulberry street.

We arrived at the site around 11PM, which was brightly lit and full of people paying quiet tribute. I had been following the progress closely from afar along with the rest of the world, but I was still taken aback with how emotionally raw it felt to be there in person.

(I was able to track down a few photos from this blog, which were taken in June 2004.)

In 1999, I had stood on the observation deck located on the 107th floor of the south tower, and remember gazing out over the entire island of Manhattan in awe of the vast view.

And now, just five years later, I found myself back at the same address but instead of looking out, I looked up. Up at the tall sturdy metal fencing that enclosed where the twin towers had once proudly stood, now covered in countless fliers displaying the faces of missing loved ones. Back then, it was one of the few places where people who had lost someone in the tragedy could honor them by leaving flowers and candles.

It wasn’t until I began writing this book that it truly hit...I had been standing on a sacred mass grave site. I can’t recall much else from that evening but I will never forget all those faces staring back at me. An image my brain revisits often to this day. May we never forget those we lost.

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Thank you so much for your support and for reading. I also appreciate your patience with the slight departure in content since this is far from the typical content that I have shared here in the past. I will be posting on here more regularly going forward so stay tuned!

xo,

Christine