photo: the world trade center under construction, 1970. flickr member Roger Wollstadt.
So, I don’t want to be irreverent to the gravity of the weekend’s memories. But! One of my fondest memories of 9/11, after a freaky morning of tracking down all my friends and fighting my way through traffic, was a call to my pal Mart. Mart is in PR, and at that point in his career was in fashion. That morning, he was setting up the Calvin Klein show at Fashion Week. I’d been trying to get a circuit into Manhattan all day.
Honey, we’re fine. In fact, i’m having a drink. Kind of needed it. I hate to be callous about this, but I was actually relieved to get out of that sack of cats at the Klein show; we didn’t have enough seats for everyone who needed to be in the front row, so the stress was unbelievable. When this happened, that imaginary bullshit stress immediately channeled into something real.
When the explosions happened, we all scattered, of course. I had myself a very nice walk across the Williamsburg Bridge, which I’ve never done, and I made some new friends. And it’s a beautiful day today, despite everything. We’re seeing if we can head back into that mess in the Financial district to see if we can help, so I should go. We’ll call later.
The reality is, Mart was freaking out and covering with comedy, like he always does. But it was a gorgeous day, and I will always cherish his reminder that there is always something beautiful in everything.