Ten days after 9/11, I flew to lower Manhattan for a conference. It had been scheduled a year in advance. Before going, colleagues discussed whether it was wise to make the trip, and we all decided it was imperative to participate. There was such unspeakingable sadness in the city then. With no taxis allowed below Canal Street, I was dropped off and had to walk with my luggage the five blocks to the hotel, which was also a staging area for first responders. It was a devastating time. And yet I remember thinking that New York, out of all places, had the resilience, creative capital and relentless energy to survive and thrive. Take that, Ebola.
Painting by Alexandra Pacula
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