Reflections on a Visit to New York City, September 9, 2011
By Janet Hulstrand.
I don’t know the technical details of the heightened alert in New York City over the last few days: my following of the news is (sometimes deliberately) spotty at best. But I hear that New York City was “on lockdown” last night. Probably the safest place in the country, 2 cops on every corner… read the post of a Facebook friend, an exaggeration in typical New York City style.
I went to the city for a meeting yesterday. The friend who dropped me off at the bus station in Silver Spring said, “Be careful.” I laughed ruefully and said, “Yeah, what’m I gonna do?” “Well, just be smart…” he answered, concern in his voice. Of course I could not suppress the thought that maybe the smart thing was not to go to New York yesterday, but that would be letting the terrorists win, and I think we’ve all generally decided we’re not doing that.
There was a visibly increased police presence: sometimes that makes a person feel safer, sometimes it doesn’t. There was a slight but palpable undercurrent of unspoken tension in the air connected with the approaching anniversary of September 11, 2001.
I was glad that my meetings stretched long enough that I was heading out to see friends in Brooklyn past rush hour and hence past a probably more dangerous part of the day. These are the thoughts New Yorkers live with, spoken or unspoken, acknowledged or unacknowledged, all the time.
But here’s the thing: it was a gloriously beautiful day, warm and sunny, and life was good and full and both peaceful and exciting in Bryant Park, where I stopped to enjoy people-watching before my meeting. Bryant Park is an exceptionally lovely place to be. In the years since I lived in New York it has taken on several new aspects that reminded me of parks in Paris: ping pong tables, and a place for playing petanque. Free access to Wifi, and complimentary reading material set out for all to enjoy. Nearby, chairs were set up for a concert, and on the far side of the park a carousel was turning. I sat there for a pleasant couple of hours, reading and preparing for my meeting. It was a very pleasant interlude.
Bryant Park, New York, Sept. 9, 2011. Photo JH
New Yorkers are a wonderfully expressive, diverse lot of people, so there are literally millions of uniquely individual ways in which they are processing the mix of emotions as September 11 approaches. One of my colleagues at the meeting I attended responded to my remark about what a fantastically beautiful day it was by agreeing and adding softly, “Kind of like that other day in September…” Another friend posted her feelings on Facebook:
I just want to skip 9/11 this year. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to reflect. All the memorials are irking me. I don’t know why. No offense to those who want to remember. But that’s how I feel…
I am writing this post on September 10, as I return to Silver Spring. I hope nothing horrible happens in New York, or anywhere, tomorrow. I wish nothing as horrible as September 11 would ever happen again anywhere, ever. Theoretically this could happen. Unfortunately, we all know it won’t. And even as I write these words I am acutely aware that in other parts of the world American servicemen and women, those with whom they are in conflict, and many innocent civilians, are suffering terrors even worse than those that visited New York City on September 11, 2001: worse because there is no end in sight and there is no relief in the meantime.
I don’t know where these dark thoughts are leading: probably somewhere I don’t really want to go.
All I really wanted to say is that yesterday as another September 11 approached, New York was a wonderful, though slightly nervous, place to be. It was a beautiful day in September, in a city full of people remembering, or trying not to remember, a horrible day that happened 10 years ago. Nearly all of them, I would say, wishing and hoping along with me that the beauty of the day would last and that peace could prevail.
Janet Hulstrand is a writer, editor and teacher of literature and writing. She lives in Silver Spring, Maryland but has left large parts of her heart in Minnesota, France, and New York City, and she spends as much time as she can in these three places. She teaches summer university classes in Paris as well as private writing workshops in Champagne. More of her writing can be read on her blog Writing from the Heart, Reading for the Road.
