Tonight I was at a party overlooking the pit that got shut down by the authorities fairly quickly due to concerns about "structural integrity" or something kind of DUH-like. A few hundred revelers had to empty out and try to salvage their nights but just ended up milling about on the Stuyvesant ped bridge, the steps of Trinity, or Liberty Plaza before we all eventually shuffled off through the wind tunnels inhaling WTC dust our whole way home.
Generally the city tends to lay off when this particular promoter throws a jam but tonight was different from the get-go and it's pretty clear why. If we had actually all met our demise because the five floors of a former strip club collapsed onto each other it would have been just another link in a chain of embarassing and totally preventable tragedies and mishaps that have haunted the WTC since the city first attempted to rebuild.
Tonight capped off a full month of painful reminders of that awful September day and the months that followed but the most soberingly awful of all is the fact that seven years later there's still nothing but cranes and cinderblocks and cherry pickers and chain-link fences and a Century 21 sign and a night of the living baseheads perp walk.
2 comments:
this is so lovely...i tried to post a link to something but failed...i'll just make a new post.
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