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Loss of innocence

Alumni learn to cope with an eternally changed Big Apple

January 9, 2002
Patriotic decorations adorn New York. “Before, you would see the Empire State Building on one end of Fifth Avenue and the World Trade Center on the other,” 1998 MSU graduate Ryan Sills said. “Now you see the Empire State Building and red, white and blue.”

New York - It was one of the brightest days Ryan Sills could remember when he woke up early one fall morning in his apartment near Wall Street. It was Sept. 11 - just a few hours before the 1998 MSU graduate’s home was covered in the dust of collapsed World Trade Center towers, clouding the sapphire-blue sky.

Despite the sun, it was the dark day that changed New York.

“You could see this ball of fire, but no one ever knew what had actually happened,” Sills said. “There were hundreds of people in the streets. People didn’t say, ‘How are you?’ - it was always, ‘Are you OK?’ almost as if we’re all in this together.

“It was easily the worst and scariest day of my life.”

The 400 members of the Greater New York Metro Area Club of the MSU Alumni Association were scattered around the area, but none were reported missing. The University of Michigan Club of New York City lost its president, Jim Gartenberg, in the attack.

“It stopped me cold for a while,” said Greg Hauser, president of MSU’s New York club. “When I heard it was my counterpart, it shook me. It’s a status that is part of a world that you never thought could be touched by something like this.”

With a clear view of the Empire State Building from his office, Sills and his co-workers bolted from the building, fearing another high-rise would tumble before the day was over. He walked across the Williamsburg Bridge to safety, blocks and blocks from his comfortable bed, MSU memorabilia and a sense of security.

Returning home to pack essential belongings, he only saw a white snowlike powder dusting the empty streets. The word “pray” was traced on a car outside his apartment building. When it was safe for Sills to move home two weeks later, the dust had washed away, but the smell of charred buildings remained. No windows in his downtown apartment were opened since. The constant reminders of the missing towers haunted him every sunny morning.

“I’ve seen the area from every angle,” Sills said. “You watch the news, and they show all the places that were impacted and it’s your pizza place and your dry cleaner in the videos. That’s where I walk and where I shop and where I travel every day.

“We lived on one of the most incredible streets in the world - then that went right out the window. I find myself wondering if it will happen again, and if I’ll have to walk over another bridge to get out.”

On his way home from a late night out, the towers used to be his landmark to find his way.

“The first time I looked up to find my way home and couldn’t, it was like a kick in the stomach,” he said. “People at home say I’m different. I still get up, go to work, have fun, watch sports, but the way I think about everything is different.”

Roni O’Connor saw the change in New Yorkers - including the second-graders she teaches. The 1964 MSU graduate heard about the attack, but wasn’t allowed to discuss it with her class. Teachers later became grief counselors when they learned a student’s parent had been killed.

The day reminded O’Connor of her senior year at MSU, where she student-taught fifth-graders in Jackson the day President John F. Kennedy was killed. Both times, teachers had a gag order that left a lump in their throats.

But in 1963, the world was overcome with sorrow. In 2001, sorrow led to a deeper appreciation for life, O’Connor said.

“I still went to school, taught and watched TV at home,” she said. “You’ll never forget where you were or what you were doing, but it’s been three months, and we’re still going.

“School is a safe place for the children to be. You answer their questions, be honest and assure them they’re going to be OK. They are just babies. They don’t understand.”

Like hundreds of other classes around the United States, O’Connor’s made red, white and blue decorations to adorn memorials around the city. The ornaments matched the hundreds of flags flying from offices and apartments.

The city’s patriotic new look serves as encouragement for people like Salvatore Sorrentino. The New York police officer said people smile more - especially when they see police officers or firefighters approach. Sometimes, the smiles are the only things that can get him through a 12-hour shift, he said.

“After we issue a summons, or a ticket, people will genuinely thank us,” Sorrentino said. “I would be away from my family for so long that there were tears running down my face at my post. We were rolling with the punches.

“Everybody else had a chance to breathe - we didn’t even have a chance to take a shower.”

The changes that mean the most were sometimes in the most common places.

1978 MSU graduate Marcia Bell said she bumped into people more often after the terrorist attacks that took the lives of an estimated 3,000 people. Instead of starting a fight, it often started conversation. There were no horns honking in the streets, but the constant wail of sirens.

“All of us have spent time at the Trade Center,” Bell said. “It’s not as if you walk every day in fear. You have to get on the subway, you have to get on the bus, you have to go to work. There are ways to stay positive and look for hope.

“We really lost our innocence that day.”

Jamie Gumbrecht can be reached at gumbrec1@msu.edu.

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