glad I stayed

13 years ago today.

Like everyone else, I was overwhelmed with grief. And sadness.  And in my case fear.  Fear of what was still to come.

I imagined terrorists overtaking the city.  Bombs being randomly thrown through windows as we slept.  Explosions on the subway.  Killings in restaurants.  All sorts of nightmarish scenarios.  But I never imagined beheadings.  The world has become so much scarier.

13 years ago I didn’t want to live here.  I was too afraid for myself, and my 8-year-old son. It was only five days before that Alexander had started third grade.

I looked at houses in Connecticut.  I was ready to flee to Fairfield County, a place that felt safer than Manhattan.

For weeks after, I found excuses to leave the city. 

One weekend it was New Jersey, to the beautiful town of Bernardsville, where Terri and her son lived.  

Another time it was Woodstock, NY to be with Susan and her family.

Then it was to Norwalk Connecticut to be with Julie and Ken.  I was sure no terrorist would find us there. 

One weekend in September I met my sister Jean and her daughter Sally at Six Flags in Western Massachusetts.

And a few weeks later we all spent a weekend in the quiet town of Sturbridge Massachusetts.

I didn’t want to be in Manhattan.

Sometimes we would sleep at Carol’s apartment, just a couple of blocks away. I felt safer being with more people.  I tried to mask these excursions as “fun adventures” so Alexander wouldn’t sense my fear.  Or worse, become fearful himself.  He was only eight, and didn’t understand the magnitude of what had happened.

I bought Cipro, though never took any. 

I had rubber gloves to open mail (though these, too, I never used).

I packed an old leather backpack to use as an escape kit for me and Alexander, should we need to flee Manhattan. 

I didn’t buy duct tape and plastic (as advised by Homeland Security) to seal my apartment against nuclear, chemical, and biological contaminants.  That solution sounded ridiculous.

But I did watch the official threat levels, and got nervous all over again when “high levels of chatter” were reported.

I was glued to the news.  Coverage was relentlessly scary and sad.

Homeland Security came up with its color-coded alert system. New York City has stayed on Orange since the attacks 13 years ago.  The rest of the country has settled in on yellow.

I am no longer fearful when I go to sleep at night.  I don’t worry every time I get on a subway or bus.  And I recently did away with my little get-a-way kit. 

I am embarrassed that I ever thought of leaving.  It makes me feel cowardly, and disloyal to the city I love.

I am glad I stayed. I can't imagine ever feeling more at home than I do here.