Tim and I lived across the street from a fire station that lost 15 courageous men on 9/11. I remember having to get use to the sirens at all hours of the night in our midtown apartment in 1995/96. To stroll past our old haunt on 48th and 8th street and see the memorial plaque in front of the station is difficult. Ironically, a recent friend of mine (in Texas) lost her brother in 9/11. His station happened to be the one on this corner, station 54.
Yes, it was hard for me to make. I am married to a native New Yorker. He took me to Ground Zero when we went back home last year at Christmas. I looked at all the names on the wall and cried.
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