Megan McArdle, reporting from the WTC, remembers what it was like to drive to work through six or seven heavily-armed checkpoints.
In fact, she remembers a lot of what it was like to be at Ground Zero immediately after the attacks of September 11.
. . . how the men were fine as long as they were working, but as soon as they left work they’d want to get drunk to forget — and they wouldn’t forget; they’d end up drunk and sobbing hysterically on the floor of the bar. Which wasn’t embarassing because everyone else was crying too.
. . . how the machine operators would warn us not to look down as we crossed the site because of what we might see.
. . . how we had our own private little park off the river where we could spend fifteen minutes eating lunch, because no one was allowed south of Houston street. How silent the streets were, away from the site.
Those of us who weren’t there can’t remember, but we should at least be reminded. Often. There’s much more in Megan’s post, and you owe it to yourself, to the victims, and to those on the scene to read it all.
Get to it. Now.