Affirmation and Resistance
It was not a street anymore but a world, a time and space of falling ash and near night. He was walking north through rubble and mud and there were people running past holding towels to their faces or jackets over their heads. They had handkerchiefs pressed to their mouths. They had shoes in their hands, a woman with a shoe in each hand, running past him. They ran and fell, some of them, confused and ungainly, with debris coming down around them, and there were people taking shelter under cars.
The roar was still in the air, the buckling rumble of the fall. This was the world now. Smoke and ash came rolling down streets and turning corners, busting around corners, seismic tides of smoke, with office paper flashing past, standard sheets with cutting edge, skimming, whipping past, otherworldly things in the morning pall. (Don DeLillo, Falling Man, 3)
I was in New York City, under the Twin Towers, two weeks before September 11, 2001. Before getting there, we had taken a sightseeing-bus tour which had informed us about the 1993 First World Trade Center bombings perpetrated by Islamic fundamentalists. Sitting at home in Barcelona on 9/11, and amidst incredulity towards the images that kept appearing over and over on television, I remembered those stories about terrorism that the sightseeing tour had informed us about, thought about the implications those terrorist attacks would have worldwide, and I could not help but wonder how...
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