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9/11 and the towers

by Robert Codey

Created on: July 17, 2009   Last Updated: July 19, 2009

I grew up in West Orange, New Jersey on the peak of the Watchung mountains facing the New York City skyline. Manhattan was only 8 miles to the East and our relative elevation gave us an astounding view of the Twin Towers. We had 4 sets of connecting sliding glass doors that gave us an incredible view of the entire New York City skyline.

I couldn't look at the real thing on that day...9-11...it was too alive and vibrant on my television screen. Dare I look at those massive Twin Towers burning on the horizon, taking away what was left of the America I thought I knew? Watching white flags waving helplessly from windows in the World Trade Center towers, trapped thousands of feet above the ground and with no way out of the towers was crushing to me. I could feel the pain like a hollow pit in my stomach aching to belch forth cries of pain and sadness. It was already so personal, feeling the pain of these people trapped and seconds away from death.

Standing on the peak watching the real thing burning live in front of me and then collapsing to the ground was more than I would have been able to stand. I stayed away.

In 1999 I was physically tortured and was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder symptoms as a result. When 9-11 happened two years later, it destroyed what little resolve I had left. Tears would fall from my eyes like waterfalls for no reason. I had to avoid taking deep breaths in public because I had an ever present sob that would shake my entire body from the core with every inhalation of air.

I lived this way until 2003, wondering if I would ever be able to heal this deep wound to my soul. I knew people who had died in those towers, people I had been close with and grew up with. The pain and sorrow that would engulf my body and envelop my soul during those times was something I had to deal with. I couldn't lock it away and forget about it or it would tear me apart.

And so I picked up pen and paper and began writing. I told my story, a memoir. It healed me. I no longer have those incredible, embarrassing deep sobs every time I take a deep breath. My book is sad, it funny and it's sweet and after these many years I feel it's time I start sharing it with more people and telling them about it. If there's interest, I may share some chapters via articles. Thanks for taking the time to read this.

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