I can remember, back when I was still in college, all the times I made the trip from Ames, Iowa back home to New York City. When I was in my freshman and sophomore years I didn’t have the money to fly home, much less the cash to take a train. So, I took Greyhound.
The bus trip took 30 hours, shoulder to shoulder with my fellow bus riders, whom I like to call, the dregs of the dregs of society. There would always be a couple hour lay-over in either the Cleveland or Chicago Greyhound terminal, two places you don’t want to be at 4 am, especially after spending 10 hours on a bus, and especially considering the terminals were packed with tons of people so bad off they either couldn’t afford bus tickets themselves, or thought they’d be able to make their fortunes preying upon those who could.
Those trips, no matter how awful they ended up being, were worth the trouble. I was just a poor college student. I couldn’t really afford to go home very often, even with the cheap Greyhound fares, and only made the trip once or twice a year. That 30 hours, a time spent amongst the smelly, crazy masses letting Greyhound do the driving for them, was absolutely worth it, if only for the chance to go home and spend some time in the bosom of my friends and family before I’d have to take another 30 hour ride and head back to classes/work.
These trips usually followed a hard fought battle with exams and finals and, invariably, I’d have the beginnings of a cold. After about 29 hours on the bus, in a state of zombiehood brought about by cold medicine, and lack of sleep, good food, or bathing, I’d begin to think I’d never make it home.
Then the Greyhound bus would leave the Newark station and jump on the New Jersey Turnpike for our final leg home. Soon enough, we’d crest a hill and get the first glimpses of the New York skyline. This would usually be pretty early in the morning; the sun would be just rising over the city. As we’d be coming from southern New Jersey, heading toward the Lincoln tunnel, the buildings closest to us would be the World Trade Center. I can’t tell you how beautiful it was to see the sun glistening off the steel and glass cathedrals of our modern society known as the Twin Towers.
That first view of New York City, those towers in particular, would be enough to lift my spirits after a long semester and what seemed like an even longer bus ride. When I first glimpsed those buildings, I always knew I was home. Now, that's a feeling I will never have again.
It was the most chilling, unreal feeling watching the endlessly repeating video of the towers: one smoking, then the second airplane crash, followed by the even more incomprehensible collapses, this time from many different angles of the cameras that had been set up. I do not have a personal connection with them like you do, MG, but it still shook me to the core, watching the senseless death and destruction. I am still watching it on TV and I still cannot imagine what it must be like for New Yorkers. My heart goes out to you, MG, and everyone in the city, for your losses today.
by kd at September 11, 2001 9:40 PM
Mg life really has changed as we know it! They also, if your reading these now, arrested two individuals on the GW bridge with a truck load of explosives! I fear, the twin towers were seriously just the begining! Hang in there NY, you have a Country thinking about all of you!
by Pristine at September 11, 2001 9:41 PM
I first saw the news this morning when I saw the two towers smoking. About thirty seconds later, I saw one of those majestic towers slowly crumble. For about 10 seconds, I forgot that my best friend Jeffery wasn't working there any more. Up until May, he worked at the WTC Gap, but this summer he got an internship at the Broadway Dance Center. He was actually on the subway under the Towers when one of the planes hit, but he said he didn't feel anything or know anything until he got up to school.
Everyone I know lives and works above 45th, so I wasn't too worried... but you never know. I was concerned about Jeffery, because he had to come from Staten Island. But once I could get calls through to the City, all my loved ones were okay. I called mg and a couple others around 11:30 CDT when I could finally get calls through.
Anyone in the States, go donate blood. The centers here are filled with people, but the lines will die down and the need will likely still be there.
The world really will never be the same.
by snaggle at September 11, 2001 10:18 PM
i worked in N.Y.C for 2yr i worked in the basement ,i now live ms my friend james leahy worked 48 floor do'es any one know him people say he gone but he's # un listed
by jverneer at October 11, 2001 10:56 AM
UN REAL TO THINK PEOPLE WOULD DIE FOR A CAUSE ,AND TO THINK THEY WAS GOING TO HEAVEN FOR KILLING PEOPLE.NO PITY I FEEL FOR THEY SOUL ...THANK YOU ALL FOR LETTING ME SPEAK FOR WE ARE FREE TO DO THIS AMEN WE MUST BE STRONG TO CARRY ON,MY FRIEND'S MAY BE GONE BUT THEIR NAME'S WILL LIVE ON IN OUR HEART'S AND MIND ...JV MS
by jverneer at October 13, 2001 10:25 AM