I remember visiting the World Trade Center not long after it first opened in 1974, (I was 11), and seeing the world from 110 stories high, the wind brisk and chilling, but the sight was beautiful. The horrors of the morning of September 11 are difficult to comprehend. The countless thousands of people there (and at the Pentagon, and near Pittsburgh) abruptly and needlessly had their lives ended by a heinous act of terrorism. I have friends and many relatives in NYC, and I know that their lives are forever changed by their proximity to the catastrophe. I know that mine has, and I am 500 miles away, but I feel the loss in my spirit just the same, since I lived in NY for many years and walked those streets often. I ate in the restaurants of the lower concourses of that complex, and rode the subway to the train stations of those buildings, and enjoyed the being on the streets teeming with the people that embody the energy of NYC. Those same people that had to flee for their lives, fear for loved ones, and witness unspeakable horrors. It becomes increasingly horrifying to me, as a good deal of my HS classmates (my 20th reunion of Stuyvesant's class of 1981 was on October 13) went on to work in the Wall St. area. [I am glad to report that I've not heard of any friends lost in the tragedy.] May we all recover from this tragedy and find sense in it somehow.

Seeing the carnage on TV after recently photgraphing the towers (July, the first column of shots below), it's still hard to believe that the skyline and what it represents to the character of the city is forever changed.

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