I was in the middle of the city rather than on the ground zero when the towers fell and I am still emotionally caused by 9/11 memories or anniversaries. Less about the shock of the event itself (since I was a few miles away, I watch the inverted mushroom cloud of the tower collapse from a skyscraper window to the south).
Rather, it is the memories of the walk through the devastation and the smell and sights (flowers, photos) of the city center on the way to meetings a few times a week thereafter, and of course all the sadness. There were several funerals every month for months along Fifth Avenue of St. Louis. Patricks.
I remember the surviving firefighters and policemen who then gathered in coffee shops and pubs; the sound of bagpipes; commuters sobbing in the train as they read the NY Times’ profiles in courage every month, every month, every day on the way to work; an employee who lost two brothers; the funeral of an acquaintance, where their eight-year-old son shouts a folded American flag: “I do not want it – I just want my father. I will never see my father again”. Absolutely crushing.
By experiencing the grief of others on such a scale, I felt powerless on the one hand and extremely angry / vengeful on the other. I now understand more about blood fats and revenge cycles than I ever wanted to. – Legal means of payment