Caught Between Faith & Fear: My 9-11 NYC Journal, Part 2

From My Journal
Monday, September 10, 2021
Late. Very late.

Nothing went wrong between the house and the airport. Everything went wrong from the airport to New York. As we neared Newark, I began to watch out the window for signs of the famous NYC skyline When I spotted it, I pointed it out to Dennis. We ooh-ed and ah-ed at the various landmarks: Miss Liberty, the twin towers of the World Trade Center, and the Empire State Building, which Dennis keeps calling the Eiffel Tower.

As it turned out, we couldn’t land right away. Fire at Newark . . . severe storm at JFK . . . no room at LaGuardia. When we finally landed in Newark, our driver was not to be found. A phone call to the KWP producer informed us he’d been in a car accident and that another driver had been dispatched. About an hour later, Mr. New Driver arrived, escorted us through the wind and the rain to the black Lincoln Town Car and took us for a wild, slippery ride into New York City. As the city’s skyline became more distinct through the dark and the rain, rising like a bejeweled crown encrusted with a billion diamonds, our hands reached across the seat and clasped. Most impressive of all, those towering twin works of architectural genius, reminding me of some sort of gate leading to the playground of millions.

When we finally arrived at the hotel, we decided (because the storm had finally passed) to walk down to Times Square. We would only be in the city for 24 hours (or less, thanks to the late landing, etc.) and since Times Square was so close . . .

Dennis met a man in the lobby who told us how to get there. “Walk down to 7th Avenue and turn right. It’s that simple. You can’t miss it from there.”

“Is it safe to walk down there this late at night?” Dennis asked.

“Extremely safe,” the man told us. “You’re very safe here in New York.”

Later, before we climbed into the bed, I teased, “You were worried about what could go wrong between the house and the airport. You should have been worried about between the airport and the hotel.”

He nuzzled me a bit and said, “Well, look at it this way: nothing else could possibly go wrong.”

Looking Back (2021): I am amazed that I didn’t record the fullness of the oddity of our flight into Newark. Yes, we stared out the window to see the skyline, but we also quickly realized that the plane had begun to fly in a circle. I remarked to Dennis about this, and he agreed that the plane seemed to be veering to the left, making a complete turn. Finally, the pilot came on and told us that Newark was on fire, LaGuardia didn’t have a place for us to land in between the number of other planes coming in, and JFK was “rained out.” So, we kept circling. Finally, the pilot came back on and said that Newark was still on fire, a storm still soaked the city, and we were running out of fuel. “Not to be alarmed, folks,” he said, his voice upbeat and calming. “We’re headed for Islip.” At first I thought he said “Iceland,” and I nearly freaked out. Wouldn’t it take less fuel to just keep circling?

“We’ll stop there,” the pilot continued, “gas up . . . you folks can get out, grab a bite to eat, but be back at the plane within 45 minutes for take-off.”

Dennis and I were in Seats A & B. The man across from us in Seat C, began to panic. He grabbed the flight attendant and said, “I have to be in Tel Aviv tonight! I have to be in Tel Aviv tonight! Can I get off in Islip and find another flight out?”

“Yes,” the attendant told him, “but you won’t be able to get your luggage.”

“I don’t care about my luggage,” the man said, his entire face quivering with concern and determination.

When we departed the plane in search of food (I told Dennis I wanted a hot dog–funny that I can remember that), the man tore out of the crowd and disappeared into the recesses of Islip’s airport. When we boarded a half hour or so later, he never returned. “Well, I guess he had to get to Tel Aviv tonight,” the flight attendant remarked.

“What if he was a spy,” I whispered to Dennis.

“And what if he knows of a plot to blow up New York City,” Dennis added.

“So, he has to get out of the country tonight,” I returned.

We laughed. Such lines were funny. Then.

Another thing I recall now is that when we walked to Times Square (indeed we were safe), we found a restaurant with New York-style cheesecake. We split a delicious slice, which we ordered with two cups of decaf. On the way back to the hotel, I took a photo of Ananda Lewis’s picture where the Times Square neon lights boasted her new show. “Look,” I said to D. “We’ll be on that show tomorrow.”

But, we were not.