No subways were working, few cabs were available, buses were packed. So I walked. And what a walk. Along the way, one thing became very clear: September 11 has forever changed the people of this city. Everyone on the street was dealing with both the terrible heat and the shock of the day. Who didn’t fear the worst when power went out at 4:11 p.m.?
Nonetheless, the streets felt strangely safe. Strangers were kind to each other. The sidewalks were a lot more crowded than usual, but no one pushed. Most people’s cell phones weren’t working, so people waited patiently in line to use pay phones. Stores were selling out of bottles of cold water, but New Yorkers waited calmly for their turn to buy, and then said, “Thank you.”
It reminded me–how could it not remind everyone?–of the days that followed the terrorist attacks, when New York suddenly remembered it was human again.
Here’s what stunned me most of all. With the traffic lights out across the city, you’d think there would have been massive gridlock. Policemen were managing traffic at every intersection they could, though there weren’t enough cops to handle every corner. So instead, plain-clothes New Yorkers took it upon themselves to join the effort. Guys with tattoos and cargo pants were standing out in the middle of the street with whistles, stopping and starting traffic.
Isn’t this New York, home of the free and the brusque? Times Square was certainly a sight. Normally a 360-degree kaleidoscope of lights and sounds, it was instead completely dark. The famous TV you see on New Years Eve? Dead. It was as though someone had pulled a giant plug.
The area around Penn Station is usually filled with people rushing to get out of the city. Instead, yesterday afternoon hundreds just stood around. The entrance to Penn Station was covered with police tape. No one was getting in.
As I headed downtown, I realized that more and more shops were closing. A Duane Reade drug store, where you might buy candles? Shut. Clothing stores, gas stations and ice cream shops? Gone for the day.
Funny enough, the pizza places were all open–and had lines sometimes down the block. Gas ovens? Not sure. But I bet one in every four New Yorkers had a slice yesterday.
And as I got closer to my apartment, at around 7 p.m., I noticed something else as well. People were positively spilling out of bars. Manhattanites stood on the streets, drinking, smoking, talking and laughing with each other.
The sun was setting, the weather was cooling off. New Yorkers, kinder and more resilient than ever, breathed a giant sigh of relief.
It was a gorgeous weeknight in the city, and it was Miller time.
You gotta love New York.
