The twin towers were the
proudest symbol of
New York City. They were it's tallest, most prominent and
elegant buildings, soaring 110 stories into the sky.
The twin towers were the
heart of the
World Trade Center. Ten million square feet of office space overlooking the financial district, the harbor and midtown. From the twin towers, the world was a
busy,
quiet place; millions of people below
buying and
selling in a silent frenzy.
The twin towers were born out of a spirit of
cold,
hard capitalism. They weren't a center where world trade happened, they
were the center of world trade. They were the heart of New York City because they were it's
soul incarnated. If one could take the spirit of the New Yorker and
forge it into something real, the twin towers would be it: Unashamedly
massive,
capitalistic, out for it's own.
They twin towers were taken down on
September 11, 2001 when two
hijacked planes were crashed into them. For those of you who don't live in New York, it's hard to
explain quite what it means to see them gone. The best way to explain it would be to
imagine you lived in beautiful, green, rolling hills until a
vicious act of
unprovoked violence killed your
heroes and blasted your town to
Death Valley.
The Twin Towers, not three blocks away from
Stuy, were, when I stayed in
the city, where I spent my after school. I can't even get my head around them being gone. Today, I thought of going to the WTC
Borders and picking up a
book. The day before, I thought of going to the WTC
Krispy Kreme to get a
hot Krsipy Kreme. Tomorrow, I'll miss the
pretzels from the basement. The day after that, I'll
mourn not being able to climb to the top and get a
panaromic look at the wonder that is New York City.