For the longest time, September was my favorite month of the year in regards to the weather. The crispness of the Fall intertwined with the warmth of the Summer. Growing up the smells that permeate throughout the New York area were embedded in my mind from an early age. Sure it sucked heading back to school but I always could count on day dreaming since I was so enamored with the climate. Simply put, there was nothing quite like a perfect September day.
Thatall changed for me, nine years ago today. Literally to the minute. See the timing of this article is purposeful: 8:46 AM. That was the time the first airliner crashed into the World Trade Center, forever changing my life. No more accepting airplanes flying low without glancing up, a bit concerned. And no more enjoying the season of the year I liked the most.
When those early September mornings come now, it isn't like it used to be. There's a sense of dread or doom that comes with them. A sense of vulnerability and devastation. I wonder if that will ever go away. Nine years ago today our country, particular those citizens of the NY area, were caught off guard and crushed. Now the aromas I previously associated with happiness are tainted with uneasiness. There's a part of me that is relieved when this day passes. The preceding week is painful, and I wish there was a way the events that are spoken about could be permanently extracted from our calendar. But it can't and it won't.
I wish it could somehow go back to the way it once was. When clear, September mornings were delightful. I'm not sure it ever will.
After the jump, some of my favorite older photos of the World Trade Center from the 1970s and 1980s taken outside of Manhattan.