,
12 tweets,
3 min read
Read on Twitter
Obviously things are crazy on this side of the pond today, but it is worth stopping briefly and remembering that it is ALSO the anniversary of 9/11.
Solidarity to New Yorkers, from this Londoner, and to Americans from your British cousins.
Solidarity to New Yorkers, from this Londoner, and to Americans from your British cousins.
Actually, I want to add something to this.
When the London bombings happened in 2005, I was living in New York, on my own.
I remember waking up to the news, and being in absolute horror, shock and anger. I felt like a part of my soul had been ripped out.
When the London bombings happened in 2005, I was living in New York, on my own.
I remember waking up to the news, and being in absolute horror, shock and anger. I felt like a part of my soul had been ripped out.
But it was also really weird, because I also woke to messages from all my friends saying they were okay and - of course - it was just a regular working day in New York so, well, I just went to work.
What else was I going to do?
What else was I going to do?
I remember all my workmates being really concerned and nice and told me I didn't have to be there, but I said I was fine. I remember watching things unfold via BBC news alerts and messageboards I was on, but I felt so disassociated. I just couldn't process what was happening.
That feeling lasted until I left work and, rather than going home, just decided that I REALLY needed a drink so popped into my local bar in New York.
I just wanted to sit on the corner of the bar, in my bubble of isolated Londoner WTFness, and try and process my feelings.
I just wanted to sit on the corner of the bar, in my bubble of isolated Londoner WTFness, and try and process my feelings.
Except what I'd FORGOTTEN was that my local bar was a cop/fireman bar, in the heart of Manhattan. Full of people like that who I drank with every week and who knew me.
And what I quickly discovered was that they had no INTENTION of leaving me alone in my griefy little bubble.
And what I quickly discovered was that they had no INTENTION of leaving me alone in my griefy little bubble.
Because they knew EXACTLY how I was feeling, because they'd felt it too, but even worse in 2001 - as the shrine on the wall to lost friends on 9/11 would attest.
And for the first time they talked with me about some of those stories and we had a bit of a cry together.
And for the first time they talked with me about some of those stories and we had a bit of a cry together.
That night they drank with me, listened to me, laughed with me, watched Livingstone and London preach proud multicultural defiance with me. And reminded me that the things that make us the same: as Londoners, as New Yorkers, as PEOPLE are greater than those that make us different
That was the day that I knew I COULD live in New York forever, but also simultaneously the day I knew I would ALWAYS be a Londoner, and I needed, at some point, to go home.
But that KINDNESS, coming from people who'd been hurt so much on 9/11 and for whom watching it happen in London was clearly opening up bad memories and wounds, is something I will never forget.
Nor, frankly, will I forget the EPIC hangover I had the next day. 😂🤢
Nor, frankly, will I forget the EPIC hangover I had the next day. 😂🤢
I am proud to call myself a Londoner. And proud to call myself a former New Yorker.
And on 9/11 I remember those New Yorkers I never got to meet, and the family and friends they left behind who I did. You helped make me feel less alone when I needed it most. They would be proud.
And on 9/11 I remember those New Yorkers I never got to meet, and the family and friends they left behind who I did. You helped make me feel less alone when I needed it most. They would be proud.
Oh yeah, and you better believe that no matter how hard I tried, I could not pay for my own drinks ANYWHERE in New York for about a week after that. The moment they heard my accent, someone else would pay.
New York. I stand with ya, always. 🍎❤️
New York. I stand with ya, always. 🍎❤️
