I woke up late (like I usually do) and ran to class without catching any morning news. In my Business French class, we paired off and discussed current events. My partner and friend Amy told me what had happened, in French. The university shut down before I could go to English class. I then caught my sister by email to make sure she wasn't at the WTC, went to work, where I sat and listened to NPR with my head in my hands for several hours, and then joined my entire Michigan campus at a beautiful evening memorial in the comforting setting of the Diag.
So ten years later, I'm hearing radio news coverage of the memorials, this time in Hebrew. I'll catch the Israeli tv news tonight, also in Hebrew. I never thought then that I'd be where I am now, Israeli and fluent in Hebrew (not to mention that my eight years of French would have been forced out of my head by all that Hebrew).
I'm finding myself speechless, but this post is in honor of my friend Leehe's best friend, Joshua David Birnbaum, along with all of the unfathomable 2,977 victims. It is also in honor of two other WTC employees who survived: my fellow OTZMA participants Jessica's brother Russell (here is his haunting post recalling that most frightful of hours 10 years ago) and Molly's dad.
Russell's story brought me back to my 2004 Hustle Up the Hancock Building and 2007 climb up the Sears Tower, both in Chicago. Firefighters made those climbs up 94 and 103 flights, respectively, in full gear in memory of their comrades who fell ten years ago.
May the memories of the victims be a blessing, and may we know no more terror.
באהבה/with love,
אריק/Eric
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