1. Let's roll.
2. America's pastime. In 2001 I'm pretty sure baseball saved my sanity. That was the year of Barry Bonds. He hit 73 home runs that season. Whatever happened after that, with BALCO, the tainted stats, it doesn't much matter to me. We watched every single Giant's game that Fall and the following Spring. Bonds got me to the ballpark when a lot of people were too unsettled to be out in public, and gave me something to pay close attention to other than heartbreak, fear, and complete confusion. The Yankees even made it to the Series that year. They should have won, New York really needed it. I did too.
3. Fifteen years doesn't erase the ache of people never coming home from work. With all that was lost on September 11, 2001, it still feels strange to miss a set of buildings. The metal facade of the World Trade Center always seemed so beautiful to me. High arches reaching for the sky in repetition and exactness. I can remember the temperature of the glass at Windows of the World. A child daring enough to lean forward and watch the taxis weave in and out on the busy streets below. I love you New York. All that you were, all that you are, and all that you will be.
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