Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Reflections on a Tuesday.

It didn’t feel right to post a Yankees Series Review, or anything else really, today. I didn’t even feel like being Jobu today. I feel like September 11th is a day when we should put our sports “heroes” aside and take time to appreciate the real heroes of this country; people who gave their lives to save their fellow man on what I thought was going to be a normal Tuesday morning eleven years ago.

I remember getting a call from a friend of mine that a plane had flown into the first tower. Because I didn’t have class until 10:30 that day, I was still sleeping when it happened, and I turned the television just in time to see the second plane. It was just in time to feel that horrible feeling that tells you that one plane could have been an accident, but not two. I remember going to my 10:30 class in a bit of a daze, as the gravity of the situation had yet to sink in. I remember walking into the building where my class was held and seeing more updates on the televisions in the lobby and in people’s offices. I remember, after sitting down in class, a kid bursting into the room to tell his buddies to ditch the class because we were “under attack.” I stayed through the class, but headed straight back to my dorm afterwords to watch coverage. I didn’t go to my noon class. I didn’t really want to go anywhere after that. We watched television coverage of the attacks from noon until about 3:30 AM, a schedule I probably shared with millions of people around the country and the world.

Just the other day, I was on a photographing assignment for my day job. It brought me to the financial district, and one of the historical monuments I had to photograph was the new World Trade Center. Even though I work in the city every day, this was the first time I’d seen the new buildings in person. I’d seen photos, but I likened them to those computer animated artist rendition mock-ups you see whenever a new building is being built anywhere. I was humbled by it all. To think that here, eleven years ago, nearly 3,000 people lost their lives and two of the most iconic buildings in the city had basically disintegrated.

Now, all I saw was a beautiful tall building (and the other buildings going up around it) that every day looks closer and closer to being completed… to being healed. Those that lost loved ones during the attack may never fully heal, but as a country we have shown that we can overcome. They tore us down, so we’re rebuilding, and it’s going to be even more amazing than before. I don’t want to get all ‘Merican on you, but seeing that building made me proud. Seeing that building made me realize we’re all OK.

Sorry to those of you who were expecting a sports related post today, but I had to get that off my chest. Rest assured, we’ll be back tomorrow with more sports coverage, and more of those rants you like so much from me.

Thank you

Martin

Martin Stezano

About Martin Stezano

Uruguayan born and American raised with a unique perspective on the domestic and international sports scenes. It will both tickle your funny bone and enlighten your mind. Love it or hate it...just read it.