September 11th, A Year Later
By Jeff Gamble

At 8:46 this morning, the bells from a nearby church sounded through my bedroom window, reminding my neighborhood of the exact moment a year ago that has changed so many things. I paused when I figured out what the bells were for, and mentally shot back to that warm morning last September – a day that my memory has mistaken for something that took place only days ago.

The media and TV have been overwhelming in the last couple weeks, and the anticipation to today’s date has rivaled Christmas marketing campaigns. This morning, when the clock radio woke Marta and I up, the news stories and memorials were already in full swing. The newscaster announced that the nation was on high alert.

I’ve done my best to ignore most of the build up for this - something that I feel needs little build up. But today when I heard those church bells, I was back there, rushing down 7th Avenue at 9:30am, rushing toward something unthinkable. Everything is still so vivid – the face of the woman who sold me the disposable camera, the cab driver listening to his radio and excitedly trying to explain to me what was happening, the entryway to St. Vincent’s Hospital as it prepared for a disaster, the black smoke billowing from the towers and tailing off to the southeast…

Of course we are on high alert today, of course. But who in their right mind would try something today? This was what I asked myself as I put on my pants. Some kind of attack today? Completely out of the question. Even still though, I found myself picking out a pair of comfortable shoes, something I could quickly move around in easily if need be.

Outside my apartment, the street felt the same as it did yesterday, which is similar to how it will probably feel tomorrow. People drove by on their way to work, the sun was shining, a couple eighteen-year-olds with tilted baseball caps sauntered by and talked about the kid they wanted to beat down, and so on. It didn’t feel like September 11th.

My train was less full than usual. Maybe – probably – a lot of people stayed home today. The PATH station, consistently more congested now that the World Trade Center line no longer exists, used to bask the long morning shadow of the towers. Those riding with me this morning however had nothing in their faces to suggest that today was different from any other. That predictable, deliberate exhibit of detached nothingness was all over the car. But there were signs – like one woman’s WTC pin on her lapel, and another man’s “Ground Zero” embroidered cap - that hinted at the fact that everybody was completely conscious of the moment after all. Like me, they knew exactly where they were, where they had been, and how different it all was just one year ago.

-September 11, 2002