I was only two years and around seven months old when it happened. Some have told me that's too young to remember. But how could I not remember? When you're expectantly looking at the television, waiting for your mother to turn it on so you can watch Lady and the Tramp in video tape, but instead see the tower that you'd seen before in movies, now in flames and smoke, then watch as a plane crashes into the intact tower next to it, also converting it into a torch that greatly differs from the one that the Statue of Liberty so proudly holds... that's something that stays with you. It is not the first memory I have, but by far the most powerful. The one that made me aware of mortality. The one that still makes me mourn thousands of strangers that don't feel like strangers, especially when, instead of counting them by their thousands, you count them by their names. The one that made me realize the world I was born in would be no more.
To the 2,977 names, the 2,977 souls, the 2,977 people who should still be here.
I hope you all understand this book is not a dedicatory to the Towers' beauty or meaningfulness, but to yours.
With the utmost respect.
Never forget.
YOU ARE READING
Windows on the World (rewrite)
RomanceIt is the year 1996 in New York City. Phoebe arrives with her mother, both just as empty-handed and lost as for what comes next. While figuring out what to do and how to get by, some things seem to at least change for the better and get a little eas...
