I grew up in the metropolitan area, but I’ve only been a proper NYC resident for the past three years. After going through last 9/11 and commuting past ground zero every day for the past six-months, I’ve come to realize that no matter where I live for the rest of my life, I’ll always consider myself a New Yorker.
The people of this city are fighters. They get knocked down, get right back up and offer the other cheek in defiance. I’ve dealt with a ton of adversity in my life and consider myself someone who doesn’t relent easily, but I’m more than humbled by the collective resolve of my neighbors here. There’s no way to express the grief that’s shared on a day like today, but this morning I had the opportunity to overhear a conversation between a group of firefighters on the train that I wanted to share.
As a group, the men seemed somber while beginning to talk about a fallen brother from a year ago, so I braced myself for the remainder of the conversation… yet for the entire seven stop ride, they quickly evolved to cracking on his horrible cooking around the ladder company back in the day. Getting off the train—on this day—they were all laughing from their gut.