10 years ago today, 19 fanatics in four hijacked airliners did the unthinkable; they created the worst tragedy in American history. Today marks that terrible morning when 9/11 became the saddest day in every American’s life.
In the past I have written about Vincent Brunton here on the blog. Vinny passed away while saving lives at the World Trade Center; he worked for the FDNY and was one of the best from the neighborhood.
When I play word association and the name ‘Vinny Brunton’ comes up, I think, GREAT GUY!
One of my favorite writers, Pete Hamill (special to the Daily News) on his thoughts about the sad day.
Each of us remembers Sept. 11, 2001, in separate ways. Where we were. Who we called. What we did. The morning in New York was mild and lovely, with clear skies and a light breeze from the west. A fine day for walking. I had a 9 a.m. meeting at the Tweed Courthouse on Chambers St. and left home early to walk 10 blocks downtown in the splendid morning air. Bagels and coffee surely awaited me.
It was Primary Day. Democrats Mark Green and Freddie Ferrer were a point apart in the final polls. A Republican newcomer named Michael Bloomberg was far ahead of Herman Badillo. All were running to succeed Rudy Giuliani, barred from running again because of term limits.
There were a few campaign workers on the streets, some candidates’ stickers on lampposts, but no sense of political excitement. I bumped into a few friends. Politics? Hell, they didn’t even mention baseball. The Yankees were 11 games ahead of the Red Sox. The Mets were seven games behind Atlanta. One friend said: Jeez, it’s a lovely day, ain’t it?
I got to the meeting early, and was standing with the eloquent New York writer Louis Auchincloss, chatting about the architectural ugliness of the Municipal Building, scowling at us beyond the windows. Then we heard a fairly loud thump. If I’d looked at my watch it would have told me it was 8:46.
“What was that?” I said.
“Just part of the New York soundtrack, Peter, old boy,” Auchincloss said with a chuckle. Of course. Probably a controlled blast at some construction site. Something like that. I sipped my coffee. We sat down. The meeting was called to order.
At the time of this disaster I was driving in my car, on my way to my next class while I attended Central Michigan University. My wife had called me and told me what had happened. I didn’t believe her. I quickly turned on the radio and pulled over to listen to the special report.
Where were you on this awful morning? What were your thoughts? Would love to hear them…