Ten years ago, on another regular morning, I struggled to force myself to get up and get ready for the day when loud sounds occurred outside my window.  My roommates and I in our small downtown dance loft rushed to the ceiling to floor windows and looked out.  We craned our necks to look down to the end of Duane street, where it met West Broadway.  A huge crowd of people was screaming, crying – staring and pointing up at the sky.  What could it be? Godzilla? We rushed outside and down the street in cargo pants and high heels and then… There were two gaping holes in the giant silver towers, they were bleeding smoke and fire.  “Bombs!” people… Continue reading »