Yesterday my husband, my sister and I rode the train into the city to take the Circle Line tour of Manhattan on the Hudson River. I took the tour once on a class trip in elementary school and Cathy has been on it somewhere along the way, but it was the first time for Greg.
(Promotional photo I lifted from somewhere. The rest of the photos are mine.)
There are a variety of tours you can take with Circle Line. One of them goes all the way around the island. It's a 3 hour tour and since I think we all learned a lesson from Gilligan's Island (and I didn't have a trunk full of clothes as the castaways apparently did), we opted for the 2 hour one.
The ride was very relaxing and informative. We were treated to stunning views of the city, The Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island and 3 famous bridges: The Brooklyn, Manhattan and Williamsburg.
My family has deep roots in this New York City soil. None of us ever lived in Manhattan, though my Mom once worked there and my parents grew up in its Burroughs (Queens and the Bronx). We "kids" have trampled its streets throughout the years on various outings, driving in or taking to train from Long Island where I grew up.
My sister's neighbor, a man her kids called Uncle Ed, died in one of the towers on 9/11. The smoke from its fires wafted to their house in Nassau county and when I finally got through to her on the phone my sister said it smelled "like death." To quote Forrest Gump, that's about all I want to say about that day. But it's a deep and permanent scar on the landscape of NYC and on the hearts of those who experienced it. It binds us still.
My husband's job may take me away to live in places far from here, but I'll always be a New Yorker. I love this city.
A McDonald's in the theater district
Blue tarp and cranes mark where the Twin Towers once stood.
An American flag hangs from one of the cranes
The city that doesn't sleep