I have an odd set of feelings about 9/11. On one hand, I was hundreds of miles away that morning, in upstate NY. I watched on TV like millions of others and /saw/ the second plane hit, /saw/ the collapse, and /saw/ the chaos, but I wasn't there.
I don't in any way, feel as if I were, or presume to have a clue what it felt like to be there. But watching my hometown, where I was born and raised lose a part of its soul was wrenching in a different way. The biggest trauma to me personally was seeing it, knowing what was happening, knowing that my family was in the city, that I had friends blocks away, and knowing, absolutely, that I could do absolutely nothing.
Others have described their feelings in eloquent terms; shock, dismay, horror, anger, and pain. I felt all of that, but it was muted, distant. I was never really afraid, just distantly concerned. The worst part, for me, was the frustration. I felt as if I was...somehow less of a New Yorker, less of a Good Person for being so far away when my city was in pain. I felt tiny and worthless, able to see but not help.
Sure, I did all the 'helpful' things, I gave blood and donated what little money I had, but it didn't help. I felt like I had to be there. But I couldn't.
None of my family or friends were harmed, including a good friend's father who was a FDNY medic and his aunt who worked in Tower 1.
I recall vividly the muted happiness that I felt when I confirmed that all my loved ones were alive and unhurt (because nobody really was OK), and then I woke up the next day and celebrated my birthday.
I watched the 2-year anniversary lights from Bryant Park, and I was not moved. It was...distant. I could clearly see the symbolism and the beauty and simplicity of the memorial, and I thought it was perfect. But I didn't feel anything.
This year, maybe the lights were brighter, or bigger, or maybe the clouds were just right, because I could see them from my house. But still, I feel removed. I just wasn't there, and as happy I am that I wasn't, I wish I had been. Everyone is still alive and unhurt. It's the best birthday present I've ever gotten, and that I feel vividly.