When I left my apartment building this morning in Midtown Manhattan, things seemed as always, traffic jams, kids going to school, lots of pedestrians cloggng the sidwalks. As compared to yesterday when there was an eerie silence amongst the skyscrappers, today almost looked like business as usual. <BR> <BR>All businesses north of 14th Street are opened, Museums are opened today, Broadway theaters are opening tonight, bridges and tunnels north of 14th Street are open and traffic is flowing (as well as it normally doesn't flow) in and out of Manhattan. Airports are offering limited service, subways and buses are running but with some delays and skirting around downtown stations. <BR> <BR>In general things are beginning to return to a more normal cadence considering the horrendous events of Tuesday. In comparison to yesterday where the city was running at 30% of it's normal pace, it is back to 60% today in midtown, north of 14th Street. <BR> <BR>I was never so glad to see traffic jams in midtown Manhattan as I was this morning. <BR> <BR> <BR>I'm one of those people who believes that the sooner things get back to normal (whatever normal will be going forward)the better. <BR> <BR>We can never forget those who lost their lives, nor can we forget those responsible for that loss, but we must and will go on, the process has begun. <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR>

Amen!

Dear Frank <BR>I've been thinking a lot about our family holiday in New York in 1997 and the wonderful time we had. <BR>Our sympathies from England.

Hi Frank <BR>I'm much further uptown. <BR>Today will be a more normal day, and yet I saw only stunned faces on the streets and on <BR>the bus this morning. <BR>In the coffee shop where I stopped in, people smiled tight-lipped <BR>smiles at each other, but there was none of the usual coffee-shop <BR>banter between the <BR>customers and the staff. The radio isn't on, no Sinatra or Salsa <BR>with the coffee and <BR>English muffins today. The coffee shop, nearly always busy, was half-empty, and everyone was subdued. I've been to funeral lunches that have more vivacity. <BR> <BR>Yesterday and even today, with fewer cars even <BR>this far from the disaster, ambulances and fire trucks have no trouble moving around, and their <BR>sirens seem so much louder. These sirens might not be disaster-related; after all, people are still having heart attacks, or babies. <BR>I wish I could go downtown, even a little toward downtown. I want to <BR>see the site. I want to see that 6-story-high <BR>mountain of debris. I want to visit that tomb, and pay my respects. <BR> <BR>I am not a defeatist, but for me, the worst thing we can do is say that this wasn't so bad. I'm not implying that's what YOU are saying, I'm speaking in general. I'm afraid that if we don't dwell on it,we will forget about it, and nothing will change. We've always thought of most world problems as being separate from us, "over <BR>there." Those problems are now over here. <BR>If you're starting to feel optimistic again, I envy you and I mean that sincerely, not at all sarcastically. I'm inexplicably tired, and short-tempered, and yet my life is intact. I think some of us with the still-stunned faces, are,somewhere deep inside, scared to death. <BR>

Meg: Thanks for your kind words from England. I hope that in time, when we as a city and country look back on these times, we will truly be able to say this was our finest hour. Much as England did during WWII. <BR> <BR>Elaine: I understand your feelings,just as I'm sure you understand that we all grieve differently. I would not want to see the debris downtown, I saw enough on Tuesday from my 53rd floor office window and it was bad. Things will change but unfortunately I don't think you can guarantee that something like this will not happen again, either here or anywhere else. <BR> <BR>We grieve, we live, we go on, each at his/her own pace. Be well.

Brooklyn reporting in here. <BR> <BR>My neighborhood never came to a complete standstill, even as smoke and debris from the explosion fell on us. But we are by turns shellshocked, depressed, and filled with fury. <BR> <BR>I've felt flashes of rage these past few days that they dared do this to my city--followed immediately by the realization that other theys have done this to other cities and that I am not special in this world. I believe my city is, but others have believed the same of their cities. I clench every time I hear the planes overhead because they are a constant reminder of the fact that at present I live in a military zone. <BR> <BR>But this morning the image of a resident of Bensonhurst, one of our Italian neighborhoods, came to mind. This goes back a couple of years. Keith Mondello had just been released from <BR>prison after completing his sentence for murdering Yusuf Hawkins, the young black man who was mistaken for another black man who was dating an Italian woman in Bensonhurst. Mondello, on his release, issued a public, televised apology to the Hawkins family, and the Ku Klux Klan responded by launching a White Pride outreach campaign, in full Klan garb in the streets of Bensonhurst. <BR> <BR>The local all-news station was interviewing the hooded bastards when one of the locals, the personification of the Brooklyn Italian stereotype, walked up with a baseball bat and began threatening the KKK recruiters in that <BR>quaint and colorful language for which the people of Bensonhurst are so <BR>justly renowned. YOU F***IN COME OUT HERE ON MY F***IN STREET IN MY F***IN NEIGHBORHOOD AND I'LL BEAT YOUR F***IN HEAD IN WITH THIS F***IN BASEBALL BAT, YOU F***IN HEAR ME, YOU F***IN KLAN F***S? <BR> <BR>That's my city. And while I'm depressed and exhausted today, I'll stand <BR>shoulder to shoulder with that guy against anyone who tries to f*** with it. And I guarantee you we'll kick their a$$es. <BR> <BR>We're here. You push us, we're pushing back. We're New Yorkers, and don't you forget it. <BR> <BR>

Frank, it's good to read your post from Manhattan. Over the past couple of days this forum has come together as a supportive community and offered so much comfort to those of us who sit at our desks in disbelief and utter sadness. I think that this is the best possible use of the internet. <BR> <BR>I agree that the best thing to DO under the circumstances is to re-establish as much "normalcy" as possible, for various reasons. One of them being that people still have to function, because people still have to be dug out of the wreckage. It's up to those of us who are able, to carry on working. <BR> <BR>The other part of me knows that nothing can ever be the same. I can't watch television without crying and reliving the horror. But I can't not watch it because I won't bury my head or pretend it didn't happen. It did happen, and in our house we know that our sense of safety and security, however naive and complacent, is now gone forever. So, in that sense, there's no getting back to normal. The fact that it's a sunny day with a clear blue sky just makes it all the more appalling. <BR> <BR>But we each cope with shock in our own way, and I won't judge anybody for the way they try to get through this. I just feel terribly sad and hollow. <BR> <BR>My boyfriend started to talk yesterday, in dribs and drabs, about some of what he saw and felt on Tuesday downtown. For his sake, I encourage him to talk, while trying to be "normal", making lunch, choosing wine, doing laundry, going to work, giving him lots of hugs and smooches. We don't know when his office is going to reopen - maybe next week, we'll see. He's been working from home on his computer. His way of coping, of acting "normal", is to work. He says he really doesn't want to work in the city anymore, or even live anywhere near it. <BR> <BR>I wish everyone peace and love. I pray for you all and send you my very best wishes and hope that you are alright wherever you are. For those of you who have suffered the unbearable loss of your friends and loved ones, I send you my deepest sympathy. <BR> <BR>--Ess

I also returned to my midtown office today after spending yesterday at home. Very eerie on the streets this morning walking up from Penn. Many people looked dazed, shell shocked, and nervous. Alot of people, me included, stood and looked downtown-I don't know why-you just did. It is quiet in the office today, no ringing phones, people sort of tiptoeing around each other. Some are completely throwing themselves into work, others, like me just sort of hanging out. Many, many people know someone, alot of crying going on. I thank everyone on this forum for their kind words and support, this is a great forum!

Escritora, you *bet* your city is special in this world. Watching the heroes working through that debris and hearing about all the volunteers giving blood and doing whatever they can makes me so proud to be an American. No looting. I was moved to see that the Broadway shows will run tonight. Here in San Francisco they've cancelled so many concerts and shows this weekend. We are all still in shock and the need to grieve will go on and on but I think the rest of the country should follow New York's lead. This week we are all New Yorkers. Don't f*** with us.