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I was there, a few days after the twin disaster - when the balance between hate and love in the world went wrong - voila! news

2022-09-11T17:43:48.174Z


I got as close as possible to ground zero, there were people waiting as if one of the missing people had come out of the ruins. But the city remained completely open and it was my birthday, so I went for a cheesecake. The waitress lit a candle for me and sang me a song. "If we don't celebrate your life, the terrorists have won," she said


I was there, a few days after the twin disaster - when the balance between hate and love in the world went wrong

I got as close as possible to ground zero, there were people waiting as if one of the missing people had come out of the ruins.

But the city remained completely open and it was my birthday, so I went for a cheesecake.

The waitress lit a candle for me and sang me a song.

"If we don't celebrate your life, the terrorists have won," she said

Salon associate

11/09/2022

Sunday, September 11, 2022, 7:46 p.m. Updated: 8:30 p.m.

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On video: the memorial ceremony to mark the 20th anniversary of the twin disaster (Photo: Reuters)

It will sound like a cliché, but I can literally write thousands of words about how much the world has changed on this date, exactly 21 years ago today.

And he changed.

And the truth is, when I remember the plane that entered the second building, I find it hard to believe that there is even a balm in this world.

In the simplest terms, the balance between hate and love in the world went wrong that day.

The world was afraid, the world closed, and humanity became addicted to living in the shadow of hatred.



I was there when it happened, in New York, less than a week after the attacks.

I arrived at the intersection of Liberty and Broadway streets, as close as possible to Ground Zero.

I wore a blue New York Rangers brass jacket.

How I loved him.

Pleasant to the touch, light and warm (but not too much).

There was a smell of barbecue in the air.

Aroma of roast meat.

The smell of Independence Day in Yarkon Park.

It was the smell of charred human flesh.

It took me a while to figure it out.



It was hard to see through the dust cloud of the ruins, but the bent skeleton of the mythical Twin Towers was hard to miss.

It was no less cruel than seeing a rotting corpse.

Around me stood many people, a little curious like me, while the majority were people with red eyes who had been waiting there for days for some kind of miracle.

As if from among the ruins one of the missing will rise and jump to them with joy.

They were holding pictures of their loved ones.

Tried to hold on to some hope.

No one came out of the wreckage.

World Trade Center disaster.

September 11, 2001 (Photo: AP)

The feature on the street was reminiscent of The Walking Dead.

People walked around the street and looked at each other inquisitively.

Looking for missing persons.

Looking for clues to a normal life.

The twinkling lights of Times Square didn't advertise sugary drinks and movies, but instead broadcast messages of reconciliation and love.

"Together We Stand" next to "We Shall Overcome".

In the street they sold t-shirts as souvenirs.

I bought a white shirt with a print of the twin towers and under the inscription I wrote "Never Forget".

Sometime in some moving house I threw it in the trash and now it kinda sucks.



Despite the atmosphere that felt like after a war defeat, the city was completely open.

The shops were open.

business as usual.

America.

I went to eat at my favorite pizzeria.

I was the only customer.

The seller made me a personal pizza, served it to me, then sat down at one of the tables next to me and started sobbing.



Lots of people broke down and cried in the street.

There was a lot of sadness but there was also a lot of love.

Not a cliché, you could really see the solidarity and care in the eyes.

This is the only time in my life I have seen humans act like this.

And more in New York.

In conversations with the locals, I did not hear calls for revenge, but rather a desire to empathize.

Desire for good.

Goodness.

They replaced the locals' hatred for the vilified president with respect for the position.

Words like "war on terror" sounded good, because it is a war in some abstract concept.

War on fear.

Like a war on cancer or a war on traffic accidents.

Everyone can identify with the "war on terror", no one thought that it meant the killing of hundreds of thousands of Afghans and Iraqis, alongside thousands of American soldiers who sacrificed their lives for a "concept war" without any strategy.

Running away from the scene of the disaster (Photo: AP)

I celebrated my birthday there.

As much as it was appropriate to celebrate in this period in this place.

I ordered a cheesecake that was supposed to be the best in the world.

The waitress lit a candle for me and sang me a song.

I told her that maybe it was less appropriate and she said the winning American mantra: "If we don't celebrate your life, that means the terrorists have won."

She looked like every New York waitress in every movie I've ever seen, so I decided to listen to her, even though I never thought a birthday was such an important date.

Outside the restaurant they erected a temporary monument in memory of the policemen and firefighters who died in the attacks.

Inside the restaurant I blew out the candles on the cake.

When I went outside I saw the memorial, which was filled with hundreds of makeshift memorial candles.

The cheesecake hurt my stomach.



The next day I went to Tower Records in Soho, about a mile from Ground Zero.

It was my favorite spot in the city.

A paradise for CD lovers.

I bought an Elvis Costello album there.

I wanted a lot more CDs but something in the atmosphere didn't fit.

Bob Dylan, Ben Folds and Jay-Z released masterpieces on 9/11 itself, but there was no enthusiasm in store for what was obviously a big musical week.



On the way out, I saw fire brigades coming out of Ground Zero, full of dust and fatigue.

They had a service dog, a tired Labrador whose tongue was sticking out of his mouth almost on the floor.

He looked at me, and I asked permission to pet him.

The fire fighter agreed and while the dog was rubbing with pleasure on my palm that was filled with dust, the fireman added: "He loves you! The Sanupbiches will never get to taste love like this."

I nodded, even though I knew the sweet retriever would be just as happy to be petted by anyone else in the world.

It may be that to this day, Americans believe that there are people in the world from whom they can deny love.

They don't deserve it.



The smell of death did not leave my favorite brass.

I mean, the scent itself came off in the wash but when I tried to wear it the same human BBQ stench came up in my nose.

I never wore it again.

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Source: walla

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