New York City is the greatest city in the world.
That's why those Muslims chose to attack the WTC.
Central Park, Brooklyn Bridge, the place where Dillon lived, Coney Island and Times Square,
New York City, whish I was there.
concrete jungle. rude people. cabbies that hardly speak any language. crowded.
Flying In NY
"C'mon, Mark, what the hell are we doing?" I looked over the edge, feeling a little
sick. Thirteen stories of Riverside drive apartments, topped by a twenty foot wall
around the water tank.
All of those old New York buildings have water tanks on top – the city water pipes
are so unreliable, each building has to have it's own supply, in case of fire.
"We are going for a run," Mark said, "and then we will climb down." I thought, is he
nuts? This damn wall is all of ten inches wide.
"I can see Grant's Tomb from up here," I said. We had my birthday party in the park
next to it. I was eight at the time. Some people created about an acre of paper mache
sculptures around the benches. But Mark knew that – he was there, of course.
The sun was shining – it had rained earlier, so the smog was washed out of the air. I
always loved the rain, because I could breathe when the air got washed. This day was
glorious, and the sun framed Mark as he stood on that wall, 15 floors over Riverside
Drive.
"Are you ready?," he asked.