I first realized the change while I was on the Amtrak train heading into New York. Gone from the skyline were the familiar Twin Towers that I have seen many times before and have in the past taken for granted. Manhattan seemed like it was missing something, and it was a jarring reminder of what had happened on Sept. 11. I have to admit that getting off the Amtrak train at Penn Station, it didn't seem like too much had changed. The station was as busy as ever, and policemen were nowhere to be seen-not a good sign as far as security is concerned.
When I walked out of the station, once again it seemed that little had changed. The streets at rush hour were as busy as ever, people were jaywalking as they usually do, and the cars were barely moving in traffic. It was a testament to the resiliency of this city's people, who would not let fear and hatred consume them.
From first impressions, it might seem New Yorkers were apathetic to what had occurred, but that could not have been farther from the truth. On every single car, attached to the radio antenna, there was a small American flag. Many people wore American flag pins on their shirts or their caps, declaring their patriotism in this time of national unity.
The next day I went with my mother to Chinatown, only 10 blocks or so away from the World Trade Center tragedy, to do some grocery shopping. With the exception of my visit to Ground Zero, this trip was the single most moving part of my return to New York. Every store and shop in this mostly Chinese immigrant community had American flags hanging. Many of these people do not even speak a single word of English, and yet they were filled with the same sentiment of patriotism as anyone else. I assume it is the immigrants who most understand and appreciate the values of our great nation. Every gift shop and outdoor stand in Chinatown sold "Made in China" flag pins, showing capitalism was alive and well in our nation.
I was particularly struck by "Osama bin Laden: Dead or Alive" t-shirts that shop owners were selling. But there was one thing especially different about Chinatown. What was once a busy center of tourism was no longer bustling. The mostly white tourists with their cameras that I remember seeing before were nowhere to be found, and that truly was a shame.
On Sunday, I decided to stay at home. I had hoped to spend a day unwinding watching some football, but of course in this new world of ours nothing could be as it was. The United States had begun attacking strategic targets in Afghanistan. Suddenly football was no longer relevant, and I kept my eyes glued to the news reports on a number of channels. The taped response from Osama bin Laden was particularly chilling that day. He promised the United States would not have peace. It was particularly frightening to wonder what might happen while I was in New York. I am sure it is the same type of emotion all New Yorkers have been experiencing since Sept. 11.
Monday, I experienced the most poignant moment of my time in New York. Like most native New Yorkers, as well as many non-native New Yorkers, I took the time to visit Ground Zero. Once I got out of the subway station on Fulton Street, I could smell a horrible noxious odor. The smell resembled burnt rubber, burnt paper and crushed cinder blocks all in one. The smell intensified as I walked closer and closer to what used to be the World Trade Center.
When I got to Broadway, a single block away from the disaster site, as far as the police would let me, I was in a crowd of maybe 50 people. Many of the women stood there crying. Many of the men stood there taking pictures. I did neither; I just stood there. I stood staring at what remained of the World Trade Center, a structure with no windows, charred black about an eighth the size of the original building. It had occurred to me that what happened to the U.S. was akin to losing the pyramids or the Great Wall of China-an irreplaceable loss. In the distance stood the rubble of the World Trade Center, an unrecognizable mess of steel and cinder.
In front of me stood several police officers and several members of the National Guard, a stark reminder of the new world in which all Americans now live. The site had become, in a strange and depressing way, a tourist location once again. Yet these were not the typical New York tourists one is used to seeing. They weren't frequenting the local stores or restaurants in the area; they just stood and pondered. For the first time in my life I felt like a tourist in my own city.